This World A Wonder
by Lee Black
Summary: At the start of Noah Puckerman's junior year, new rumors start circulating about him. Only one person tries to see the truth behind them: William Schuester. When the truth is revealed, it changes everything. AU.
1. Rumors

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

This is my first Glee fanfic, so just keep that in mind.

As far as this story goes, I have the entire thing outlined already, and now it's just a matter of actually writing it. If I stick to the outline I've got, this story is going to be almost 30 chapters. (What can I say? I don't really like writing short stories.) I'm planning on updating this once a week until it's done, but I won't make any promises.

Other than that, enjoy - and feedback is loved! If you've got any questions, just message me and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Chapter 1: Rumors

"Did you hear?" a freshman asked her friend as the two girls collected their things and started on their way out of Spanish class. "He got kicked out of his house this summer."

Neither of them payed any attention to their teacher, who was watching them with a mildly interested look on his face. He'd seen them passing notes back and forth during class, and he'd let them get away with it this time. It was still just the first month of school, after all, and they hadn't started covering anything too complex. If their grades didn't pick up soon, though, he'd start putting his foot down about their lack of attention.

She nodded emphatically, clutching her books to her chest. "My cousin told me that he's keeping a sleeping bag in the back of that old blue truck he owns, and he sleeps in the bed of it most nights," she said in a hushed voice. That particular statement quickly caught Will Schuester's attention - there was only one student he knew who owned a blue truck - and he started listening more intently to their conversation. "And she said that he hasn't eaten in the cafeteria since school started, he's just been drinking from the same old water bottle."

The first girl cast a nervous glance up and down the hallway to make sure that the subject of their gossip wasn't within earshot. "Yeah. And he's sleeping with my mother and three of her book club friends again," she said. "She thinks I don't know, but she's even paying him for it again."

The second girl made a disgusted face, unable to hide her blush. "That's disgusting!" she said.

"She's just glad he's not desperate enough to start going after the closet cases for the extra cash, otherwise she'd be worried that he'd catch something," she said. She suddenly paled and elbowed her friend just as the other girl opened her mouth to say something else. "Shut up!" she hissed. "He's coming down the hall!"

The second freshman squeaked and the two of them scurried down the hall, away from whoever they'd been gossiping about.

Will frowned and glanced out the door to his classroom in time to see Noah Puckerman shuffling past with an irritated look on his face. He quickly looked down at his gradebook, frowning slightly as the conversation between the two freshmen came back to him. Had they really been talking about Puck? He waited just a few seconds later before making up his mind and closing the gradebook, making his way out of his classroom and into the throngs of students on their way to their next classes.

"Puck!" Will called as he stepped out of his classroom and started walking toward the Glee room. "I need to talk to you," he said.

The mohawked teen was standing in front of his open locker, staring almost angrily at his phone. When he noticed Will approaching him, he scowled and made to start walking away, but Will pinned him with an uncommonly stern look that kept him from taking more than a half-step back. "I don't have Spanish until fifth period, so I can't be in trouble for skipping it yet," Puck snapped, though his tone lacked any real bite. He had the start of dark circles under his eyes, and he looked far too exhausted for the first month of school, especially for a student who didn't invest that much effort in the academic part of school to begin with.

"That's not what I want to talk to you about," Will said. "But this conversation is best held in private. I don't have a class for third period, so my classroom will do for now," he said.

Puck sneered, putting his phone back in his pocket and pulling a notebook from his locker. "Yeah, well, I've got math class in three minutes," he said, slamming the locker shut.

"And you've been bragging since the beginning of Glee that you haven't seen the inside of that classroom since your first day," Will said, hoping that his attempt at humor would be well-received. Judging from the dirty look he got in response, that wasn't the case. "I'll write Ellen, ah, Mrs. Denoba," he said, correcting himself at the mildly curious look on Puck's face. "I'll write her a note excusing your tardy this time," he said. "This conversation shouldn't take too long."

Puck hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. "Fine," he said, reluctantly following Will back into the Spanish classroom.

Once they were both inside the room, Will shut the door gently behind himself in the hopes that their privacy would be respected and turned to Puck.

The teen had perched on the top of the desk directly in front of Will's desk, and he was shoving his notebook into his backpack.

Will thought he saw a toothbrush in the bag and frowned, but he didn't say anything.

When he realized that he was being watched, though, Puck immediately fell still and glared back at Will, his expression practically daring the older man to say the wrong thing.

Will was the first to break the impromptu staring contest. He walked over to his desk, absently shuffling his papers around in an attempt to alleviate the awkward silence.

It didn't work.

"I've been hearing some disturbing rumors about you," he said quietly. "And I wanted to make sure that there wasn't any truth to them."

Puck scowled, though if Will didn't know any better, he'd say there was a slightly scared look coloring the younger man's otherwise intimidating expression. "Rumors are bullshit," he said. "If you believed some of them, then you'd have to believe all of them. Meaning you're a closet case and a power bottom, Karofsky's fucking his sister's best friend, Brittany's a genius and hiding it perfectly, Hummel's really a hermaphrodite, and Figgins is having an affair with Coach Sylvester and that swim coach at the same time," he said.

Will flushed red at the rumors concerning himself, hoping to hide it quickly.

Puck's knowing look told him he'd been at least partially unsuccessful, but the teen didn't say anything about it, which was slightly reassuring, but still odd. He would have at least expected a halfway homophobic joke, not the stony silence and the uncomfortably intelligent look he was currently getting from Lima's resident sex shark.

"Is there," he started before falling silent suddenly. This wasn't going to end well, and he knew it already. Despite knowing that, he gathered his confidence and asked the question anyway. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" he asked. Fortunately, his voice hadn't broken or trembled, but the question had sparked a sudden change in Puck.

The teen immediately shut down. Puck stood up, jerking his backpack over his shoulder. He was glaring at Will, his eyes practically glowing with anger. "Yeah," he said, sounding more like a feral animal than an angry teenage boy. "Mind your own fucking business. You're worse than Hummel when it comes to sticking your nose where it doesn't fucking belong," he snapped, making his way for the door.

"Stop, Puck," Will said, his tone sharper than he'd intended. He stepped toward the door, but stopped when he realized just how angry Puck was at the moment. The boy had shown incredible restraint when he was angry before, but he'd never seen Puck physically tremble with anger before and he had no inclination whatsoever to test the teen's restraint at the moment.

The teen didn't even slow his pace. If anything, when he saw Will start to approach him, Puck walked faster, yanking the door open and letting it slam shut behind him as he headed toward the locker room.

Seconds later, the bell rang, signaling the start of third period.

Will made his way out to the hallway again, looking for Puck to continue their conversation, though hopefully with a better outcome this time. As he'd half expected, he was nowhere to be seen. Will sighed and started heading toward the locker room. He didn't particularly want to get so close to encroaching on Sue's territory, but he had a deep, nagging feeling in his gut that the rumors he'd just heard were truer than he wanted them to be, especially with Puck's reaction to his one question.

Rachel appeared out of nowhere as Will rounded a corner, talking excitedly about the song theme that he'd assigned that for the first week of Glee club, and how they needed to streamline the Glee curriculum for Regionals. She was speaking so quickly that Will was unable to understand everything that she was saying, but he still tried to pay attention.

He did his best to appear interested, but he kept scanning the hallway for any signs of Puck.

"Mr. Schuester?" Rachel asked after a moment, falling silent when she realized that she didn't have Will's full attention.

"Yes, Rachel?" he asked, his gaze immediately returning to her.

"Is something wrong? You seem distracted." She frowned. "It's not Coach Sylvester, is it? My fathers told me that they'd talk to Principal Figgins if she kept trying to interfere with important Glee Club matters," she said.

Will almost laughed, shaking his head. Pushing Noah Puckerman to the back of his mind, he smiled at Rachel. "Sue's not a problem yet," he said. "Don't you have class?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I have a study block for third period and I told the new librarian that I needed to talk to you about Glee Club. She let me come find you," she said

Will nodded, doing a final scan of the otherwise deserted hallway. He silently promised himself that he would find Puck and get answers out of him later before looking back over at Rachel and offering her a small smile. "Let's go back to my classroom and start working out some ideas," he said.

Rachel beamed up at him and started walking with him down the hallway, chattering on about the importance of continuing to use themes that demanded the range of talent be fully exhibited this year.

He continued listening and made a few suggestions of his own, jotting quick notes on a piece of scrap paper on his desk about the theme possibilities. His mind, however, kept going back to the freshman conversation he'd overheard at the end of the period.

...

Meanwhile, Noah had left the school entirely, using one of the side doors to get out undetected, and was sitting in the driver's seat of his truck, blasting Lamb of God and ignoring his phone, which occasionally buzzed, alerting him to a new text message.

After almost an hour of silently venting, when he heard the bell ringing that signaled the end of third period, he looked over at his phone and scrolled through the 6 new text messages. One in particular, from a private number, had him scowling.

_Tom left for an out of state meeting ten minutes ago. If you get here before noon, I'll pay you triple the usual. - Jess_

"Fucking hate cougars," he growled to himself as he started his truck. He typed a quick response, letting Jess know that he'd be over in a few minutes, and pulled out of the school parking lot.

He'd just need to make it back in time to use the locker room shower, and he had to remember to leave his letter jacket in the truck so she wouldn't ruin it. The first game of the football season was tonight, after all.

He glanced over at his phone when it buzzed, alerting him to Jess' response. After reading it, he scowled again and turned around, heading for the nearest gas station to pick up extra condoms. This was going to take a while.

Fortunately, no one would notice his absence from school for a few hours.

Or so he thought.


	2. Waiting on the World

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

So, here's the second chapter (pardon my stating the obvious), and things start to pick up pretty quickly in this. The song that Puck sings belongs to John Mayer, and I'm not trying to claim any kind of ownership or anything on that song (or any of the others mentioned in this chapter). Since this is a Glee fanfic, there will be songs in the chapters, and while it won't happen every chapter, it won't be an infrequent occurrence.

Oh yeah, I think Will is one of the better characters on Glee, and I am in no way planning on turning him into some kind of douche. So, there's that.

Other than that, enjoy - and feedback is loved!

Chapter 2: Waiting on the World to Change

Puck made it back to school just as the bell for fifth period ended and he grinned to himself as he pulled into his usual spot. He parked the car and stretched a bit, reaching into the backseat for his guitar, which was still in the case. He put the case in the passenger's seat, groaning quietly when he stretched an unexpectedly tense muscle in his side.

Santana had the extra key to his car, and he expected that she'd be dropping something off in his truck during lunch. He'd finally accepted that she wasn't going to listen to him when he told her that she didn't need to fill up his designated booze-cooler with Tupperware-cartons of homecooked food. And for as much as he asked her to stop, both he and Sara loved the food, and Santana's insistence on the fresh food had helped him and Sara get through a few tight weekends.

Another muscle twinge, this one more than slightly painful, had Puck groaning. Jess had been a bit rougher than usual, but he was usually able to handle everything she could dish out. Letting the woman use the leather strap to keep him tied to the wall in her closet had been a bad idea, but since it had ended with a higher than usual tip, he'd allowed it.

Speaking of his tip, he glanced down at the crisp, new pile of ten hundred dollar bills that he'd earned. He opened his guitar case and pulled open the hidden slot and pulled out the manila envelope he kept there. With this afternoon's payment, he had almost twenty-seven hundred bucks in there. With another appointment later that night, after the game, he might even be able to take the rest of the week off. Movement out of the corner of his eye had him replacing the envelope in it's hiding spot and locking his guitar case shut.

Another bell chimed from the school and Puck grinned again, pushing everything else to the back of his mind. He'd made it just in time for lunch, and it was still warm enough outside that he could get into the school and claim that he'd been running laps or something. He pulled on his letter jacket, biting back another groan. He decided that he'd check in the locker room to make sure that there wasn't a bruise. Puck grabbed his backpack and got out of the car, seamlessly blending in with the other students in the halls.

Santana caught his eye and sauntered up to him when he stopped at his locker. "You missed two classes," she said.

"And you care why?"

"You and I have those two classes together, and I was looking forward to ogling you since Brit's in two different classes," Santana said as she set a plastic-wrapped sandwich on the top shelf of his locker. "You're only allowed to eat it after you shower," she added. "And I still have the spare key to your truck."

Puck looked over at her. "Are you going to listen to me this time when I tell you not to steal my beer?" he asked.

"There hasn't been any beer in there since spring break last year and you know it," she said, lowering her voice so that no one would overhear. "My parents are going to be out of town from November to January on some business trip, and the pullout couch in the basement is still yours if you want it," she said.

He shook his head. "I put up with enough charity from you already," he said. "I might ask you to give Sara-"

"She's welcome any time, Puck, you know that," Santana said. "Brit already thinks that Sara's her little sister. Which makes it weird when she asks if that means that you two are related, even though you've fucked a few times."

An odd, sudden feeling of being watched had Puck feeling more than slightly on edge, and he glanced up and down the hall but didn't see anyone staring.

Santana didn't say anything for a moment. Finally, she frowned. "You need to shower," she said quietly. "Tell Sara that you're having chicken and elbow noodles, and don't skip any more classes today."

Puck looked back over at her and nodded.

"And Coach Sue wanted me to tell you that if you're late for the practice meeting or for the game, she's going to hang your mohawk on her door as proof of her skill as a scalper," she said.

"She's an Indian now?" Puck asked.

Santana shrugged. "Who the fuck knows? Go take a damn shower so you can pretend that I'm not putting food in your cooler," she said.

He nodded and shoved a notebook and the sandwich into his backpack. He still felt like he was being watched as he headed to the locker room, but Puck didn't see anyone staring. He'd almost made it into the locker room without confrontation when Will Schuester walked around a corner and saw him. Puck scowled, ducking his head, and quickened his pace, hoping the man would just leave him alone.

"Puckerman!"

No such luck.

Growling to himself, Puck stopped and turned to face the man. He felt an odd sense of satisfaction to find that he was the same height as the Spanish teacher. Maybe even a little bit taller. It was odd that Schuester was close enough for him to be able to tell, he thought, but he wouldn't be the one putting more space between them. "What?" he asked.

"You skipped Spanish class," Will said with a frown.

"What a shame," Puck drawled. "And now that it's lunch, I'm going to spend the next hour in the gym, as is permitted in the student handbook," he snarked at the man, turning around and heading into the locker room.

Surprisingly, Will followed him, and he didn't seem like he was going to leave him alone any time soon. "Puck, we need to talk," he said.

"No, we really don't," Puck said coldly. He headed straight to his locker and dropped his backpack on the floor as he opened the locker. "You can leave now and save yourself the embarrassment, or you can stay here and things can get weird," he said. Once he opened his locker, he tossed his backpack inside and pulled off both his letter jacket and his shirt,

A sharp intake of breath from Schuester caught his attention. "What happened to your back?" Will asked, suddenly sounding more concerned than Puck really appreciated. "It looks like you got clawed up by a cat. And your chest is bruised. What happened to you?"

Puck paused for only briefly before laughing quietly. "If you've never had someone claw your back up in the middle of sex, you're missing out. And I'm willing to lay money down that you're too vanilla to even think about trying bondage," he said, kicking his boots off into his locker. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" he asked.

"Not when I'm worried about you, Puck," Schuester said gently. "Are you sure that these bruises all came from consensual activities?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Puck said, the lie almost second nature at this point. He looked over at the older man and smirked. "If you're looking for sex advice, find someone else. I'm not going to talk about that shit with you," he said. He reached into his locker and pulled out a towel before going completely still and watching Will with an almost frightened look on his face.

Will frowned, not sure why Puck had stopped so suddenly. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

With a practiced, almost suggestive smirk, all traces of fear left Puck's expression. "If you want me to strip for you, you're going to at least have to buy me dinner first," he said. "And I don't plan on starting the habit of getting naked for Spanish teachers any time soon. You're not really my type."

Will flushed a bright red, abruptly looking away from Puck and nodding. "Make sure you go to the rest of your classes today," he said. "And I expect you to show up for Glee this afternoon, too," he said.

"Whatever," Puck mumbled. He unzipped his pants and headed for the showers.

...

At the end of the day, Will noticed that Puck was one of the last members to come into the choir room, and he only received a scowl from the young man when the two of them made eye contact. When everyone was present, he looked around the room, not saying anything for a moment.

Unsurprisingly, Kurt Hummel was the first of the group to speak up. "Mr. Schue, is something wrong?" he asked.

Rachel nodded excitedly, though she stayed silent. She would have been the first to speak, but Will suspected that she was preserving her voice for whatever song she'd decided to perform for the club.

Will shook his head, smiling at Kurt. "Of course not. Everything is fine," he said, deliberately ignoring Puck's glare. "Have you all prepared a song that fits the theme?" he asked, motioning back at the board behind him, where the phrase "Fresh Starts" was still written.

He was met with sounds of agreement throughout the classroom. Kurt stood up, volunteering in one breath to be the first to sing.

Will nodded and made his way to his usual seat, which was just a few chairs away from Puck. However, when he made to sit there, he realized that Puck was giving him a particularly vicious glare, he moved over to sit on the other side of the group, ignoring Kurt's curious look at the exchange.

No one else in the group seemed to notice anything odd, and the performances started went off without a hitch.

Will made sure that he was paying at least some attention to the group. The performances were all quite good as usual, particularly Santana and Brittany's interpretation of Johnny Nash's "I Can See Clearly Now." Still, Will's mind stayed on the problems with Puck.

Finally, after about half an hour of singing, the only person who hadn't performed was Puck.

"Puckerman, center stage," Santana drawled, smirking over at him. When he glared at her, she just winked at him and motioned at his guitar, which she'd brought in and rested against the back wall of the room.

Puck sent her a scowl but picked up his guitar and headed to the front of the classroom.

Something buzzed on his chair, and Will noticed that Puck had left his phone on the chair, face down.

Puck hesitated briefly, sharing an odd look with Santana. They seemed to be communicating silently, but whatever it was lasted less than a minute. Puck looked down and plucked a few chords on his guitar before clearing his throat and starting his performance.

"Me and all my friends

We're all misunderstood

They say we stand for nothing and

There's no way we ever could."

Puck's phone buzzed and he tensed slightly before he ducked his head, staring at the ground in front of him and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

"Now we see everything that's going wrong

With the world and those who lead it.

We just feel like we don't have the means

To rise above and beat it."

His phone buzzed again, and this time he looked up at Santana, the two of them sharing another significant look. This time, though, Will thought he saw the glimmer of tears in Puck's eyes before the younger man continued singing.

"So we keep waiting,

Waiting on the world to change.

We keep on waiting,

Waiting on the world to change."

"How is this a song about a fresh start?" Kurt asked quietly, looking over at Finn, who shrugged.

"Shut the fuck up, Hummel," Santana snapped, sounding meaner to him than she had in a number of months.

"I think it's pretty," Britney said, leaning against Santana with a vapid smile. She blew a kiss to Puck before closing her eyes and swaying slightly back and forth, all to the rhythm of the song.

"It's hard to beat the system

When we're standing at a distance

So we keep waiting,

Waiting on the world to change."

Puck's phone buzzed a third time and he scowled, closing his eyes.

Kurt opened his mouth to say something to Mercedes, but Santana cleared her throat loudly, cutting him off. He turned and glared at Santana, who sent him the middle finger, silently daring him to say something else.

"Now if we had the power

To bring our neighbors home from war

They would have never missed a Christmas,

No more ribbons on their door.

And when you trust your television

What you get is what you got.

Cause when they own the information, oh,

They can bend it all they want."

Rachel was oddly silent, watching Puck curiously as he continued singing. She was the only one, other than Will, who'd been ignoring the exchange between Santana and Kurt.

"That's why we're waiting,

Waiting on the world to change.

We keep on waiting,

Waiting on the world to change."

Puck paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and looking back up at Santana before continuing.

"It's not that we don't care,

We just know that the fight ain't fair.

So we keep on waiting,

Waiting on the world to change.

And we're still waiting,

Waiting on the world to change.

We keep on waiting, waiting on the world to change.

One day our generation

Is gonna rule this population

So we keep on waiting,

Waiting on the world to change.

We keep on waiting,

Waiting on the world to change."

Silence accompanied Puck as he finished singing.

After a few minutes, Will leaned forward to start saying something, but Santana beat him to it.

"Now that we've all got indisputable proof that the mohawk has some talent behind it, the football players and the Cheerios need to get to the practice meeting for the game tonight," she said. Without waiting for anyone to respond, she stood up and picked up Puck's backpack and guitar case. "Britney, I'll meet you at practice. You, come with me," she said, watching Puck sharply as he stood up.

Will stood up, trying to catch Puck's eye, but the younger man was still ignoring him.

"Hey Mr. Schue, are you going to come to the game tonight?" Finn asked as he stood up and pulled on his letter jacket. "It's our first game of the season, and we've got a lock for the win against MacAvoy," he said.

"I might, actually," Will said with a smile at the lanky teen. "As long as nothing else comes up," he said. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Puck took his backpack from Santana and started walking out of the choir room with her.

...

As soon as the door shut behind them, Puck visibly relaxed and let out a deep breath. He smiled weakly, seemingly completely unaffected by the look Santana was leveling on him.

"Schue was watching you like you'd kicked his puppy, Puckerman," she said once she was sure that the two of them were alone. "What the hell happened?"

"He caught me coming back from a few hours with Jess," Puck said quietly. "He got bitchy because I skipped his Spanish class. I told him he's missing out on real sex and he left."

Santana frowned, wrapping her arms around Puck's waist. Neither of them really put that much importance on physical contact, but Santana had a knack for knowing when a friendly embrace would be a comfort to Puck instead of something less pleasant. "I thought Jess was back with her husband," she said, resting her head lightly on Puck's chest. She didn't miss his quiet hiss of pain at the contact, but she also didn't move her head.

"I thought so too, but she offered me triple, and both Sara and me have a doctor's appointment next week," he said. "Besides, it's Sara's birthday next month and I still haven't been able to get her anything yet. She doesn't think she's going to get anything, and I don't want her to start thinking like that. She's too young to be continually disappointed."

She frowned again. "And your mom? I heard your phone buzz like five times during Glee. Is she drinking again, or has she gone back to the other stuff?"

"I'm not talking about that," he said sharply, glaring down at Santana.

"Fine," she said, ignoring Puck's tone. She did remove herself from Puck's body and step back, though, knowing how he'd react if he was touched too long. "Brit's spending the night at my house after the game tonight since her parents are going out of town for some meeting in Columbus," she said. "I can keep it PG with her if you want to get Sara out of the house and away from your mother."

Puck nodded. "That's a good idea, I think," he said.

The door to the choir room opened suddenly and Will jogged over to the two of them.

"Puck," he said, sounding slightly out of breath. "You and I need to talk."

"No," Puck said, his hackles going up almost immediately. Any progress that Santana had made at calming Puck down was gone in an instant. "We don't. I went to my last two classes and I came to Glee, just like you wanted me to. Now I've got a game tonight that I need to get ready for. Just stay the hell away from me," he said.

Will frowned and looked over at Santana. "He'll catch up with you later."

She scowled. "Coach Beiste isn't going to like having her best running back late for another meeting, especially right before the first game of the season," she said, stepping forward. No one missed how she was deliberately positioning herself between the two men. "Puck, get to the locker room. Now."

He nodded, doing as told without protest and ignoring the feeling of Will staring at him as he walked away.

"This behavior is something I'm not going to put up with, Santana," Will said. "He's one of my students and he's clearly in need of some kind of help."

"It's the kind of help that really doesn't concern you," she said, seemingly unaffected by the fact that she was talking down to a teacher. "He's been dealing with plenty already without having to add in the factor of you being unable to leave well enough alone."

"Are there problems with his family?" Will asked, refusing to take the hint. "Is that why he's covered with bruises?" he asked.

Santana sighed. "Look, Mister Schue. You're not a completely horrible teacher and I know that you're going to keep pushing this even though it's going to get to the point where Puck might resort to unusual methods to get you to leave him alone," she said. "But I'm going to give you the chance to just walk away," she said.

Will shook his head. "Puck needs help," he said. "That's not something I can just walk away from."

"It's the better option. This way, Puck doesn't report you for harassment and you don't leave Lima with a permanent mark on your teaching record," Santana said. "If it gets too bad, there are people Puck can go to."

"I am one of them."

She frowned. "He doesn't know that, and he doesn't trust you," she said.

That hurt. Will took a step back. "I can't in good conscience let Puck get hurt," he said.

Santana was silent for a moment. "Let's make a deal, then. I know the whole situation and I know properly how to judge how much help Puck needs," she said. "If, and only if, it becomes necessary for someone else to be brought into the very small group of people who know enough to do the right thing, I'll come to you. Until then, you can watch from a distance and you can ask him questions that are only going to do more harm than good. How's that?" she asked.

"And what happens if I don't agree to your terms?" Will asked, scowling. He was being backed into a corner and both of them knew it. He had no intention of going down without at least something of a fight, though.

"Then you're going to push Puck too far and he might end up going so far as to say that you sexually harassed him, or something else like that, and you'll never teach again," Santana said. "I don't really care what you do, as long as you leave him alone and don't push him."

Will said nothing for a moment. "Fine," he said finally. "But when things start to get out of control, you come straight to me."

She smirked up at him. "Excellent," she said. "I'm going to be late for the Cheerios if I stay here any longer," she said, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Will. "You're free to come to the game tonight, but talking to Puck again is going to end badly. So just leave him the hell alone for now," she said before walking away.

Will could do nothing but watch the young woman leave, all the while wondering what, exactly, it was that she was helping Puck keep secret


	3. Are You Ready for Some Football?

Hey, pretend there's a disclaimer here.

There are some violent-ish parts in this, but I tried not to write anything too graphic.

Other than that, enjoy! - and feedback is always loved.

Chapter 3: Are You Ready for Some Football?

Halftime.

They were ahead of the MacAvoy Lions by three touchdowns, one of which had been scored by Puck late in the second quarter.

One of the other team's linebackers hadn't been pleased when he realized that Puck had slept with his mother, and there had been a few close calls where Tom Osbourne had almost started a fight with Puck while the clock was still running.

"Pay attention, Puckerman!" Beiste called, pulling Puck's focus back to the rest of the team in the locker room. "Stop daydreaming and get your head in the game. I don't want anything to screw up our chances at the win," she said.

Mike sent him an amused look. "Try not to get into a fight with that ginger kid, either," he said. "He's wanted a reason to start a fight with you since you made that crack about doing his mom in the back of her Chevy."

Puck just returned the grin, biting back the headache that came with thinking about Emily for too long. She was another one who'd seen no reason to be particularly gentle with him, and she liked to play with the more hardcore parts of bondage. To be frank, he was hoping to have a chance to break her son's nose. Especially if she was in the stands, watching the game. "Not my fault his mom's a kinky bitch," he said before looking back over at Beiste. "He's not a problem, Coach," he added.

"Good," she said. "See that it stays that way." Beiste glanced down at her watch and grinned. "Let's get back out there and put those lions out of their misery," she said.

The entire team cheered and headed out to the field.

Before he had the chance to leave, though, Beiste put a hand on Puck's shoulder, stopping him from going anywhere. "I know you said that you're focused," she said. "But someone came to me earlier and expressed some concerns."

"You're talking about Mr. Schue, right?" Puck asked. His coach didn't say anything, but the look on her face was answer enough for him. "He made the mistake of believing that some bullshit rumors were true and he tried to push into business that doesn't concern him."

"Even still," Beiste said. "He told me a few upsetting things and I want you to know that there's no need for you to bottle things up. I'm here and so is Schue, if you need to talk," she said.

Puck just adopted the cocky, carefree grin that had never failed him before. "There's nothing to worry about, Coach. I'm a badass," he said. "Nothing's gonna happen to me that I can't handle."

Beiste nodded, and Puck was able to tell that she'd bought his trademark lie. "Then get out there and make sure that we score another few touchdowns before this game is over," she said.

He nodded, grabbed his helmet, and headed out of the locker room.

A few minutes later, halftime ended and the game resumed.

Puck, with the rest of the Titans offense, headed onto the field as Sue praised her Cheerios for an almost perfect performance during halftime.

As he got into his position, Santana whistled sharply and he looked over at her. She blew him a kiss and pointed up to the stands. Her parents were there with Sara, who was wearing Puck's letter jacket over her school uniform. When the six year old saw that he was looking up at her, she stood up and waved, cheering loudly.

He also saw Will Schuester a few seats away, but he did a wonderful job of ignoring the man.

Puck grinned and put in his mouthguard, turning his focus back onto the game.

And just in time.

The ball was snapped to Finn and Puck started running, knowing immediately which play the other boy would choose. No matter how far apart they'd drifted since the whole Quinn fiasco, they were still able to sync together almost perfectly when it came to playing the game.

As expected, he was right on the money. He caught Finn's throw at the 20 yard line and was able to snag his second touchdown of the game.

The crowd erupted into cheers and Puck swore he could hear Sara yelling her cheers in Yiddish.

He grinned to himself and tossed the football to the referee as he caught his breath. He didn't get as much of a chance as he'd hoped, as he was tackled to the ground.

"I'll teach you to sleep with my mom!" Tom Osbourne yelled, jerking his helmet off and throwing it. He grabbed Puck's helmet and repeatedly slammed it into the grass of the end zone. "You're the reason my parents broke up, asshole!"

Puck snarled and kicked the bulkier teen in the stomach. He pulled his helmet off and launched himself at the other boy, intent on ending the fight before it could get too serious. And he still had the urge to break the boy's nose.

The fight got serious quickly. Both boys were out for blood, and neither was willing to get up until the other was unconscious. Or dead.

Puck felt at least two of his ribs break, and he knew he'd have a black eye.

Osbourne had a broken nose, a few broken ribs, and, in all likelihood, a broken jaw. From the way he was favoring his left leg, it seemed like his ankle was at least strained, if not fully sprained.

"Quit now before I decide to kill you," Puck snapped, spitting blood onto Osbourne's face before he broke Osbourne's thumb. The other boy had split his lip open with a cheap shot, and Puck really didn't want to drag out the fight when Sara was watching.

"Fuck you!" Osbourne said, kneeing Puck in the gut before he was dragged away by one of his teammates. He quickly fought out of the smaller boy's hold and ran back up to Puck, who'd rolled onto his back to pull in a full breath. Without any warning, he lifted his uninjured leg and stomped down on Puck's right forearm.

The snap of his bone was clearly audible, and Puck let a strangled yelp of pain. He curled up into the fetal position, not touching his arm but doing everything he could to protect it.

"Next time, I'm going to kill you," Osbourne snarled as he was again pulled away from Puck. This time, he didn't put up too much of a struggle against the two linebackers.

As he regained his senses and caught his breath, Puck realized that the stadium had fallen eerily silent. Apart from the two Lions pulling Osbourne into the guest locker room, there was no movement on the field or in the stands.

Odd, Puck thought. Normally at least the referee would have tried to get involved.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat up, looking at his right forearm. He didn't realize he was biting his bottom lip to swallow pained sounds until he had to spit out a mouthful of blood.

Beiste ran up to him, followed by Santana's father. "Puck," Beiste said, watching as Puck slowly stood up. "I thought you said he wasn't a problem," she said.

"Obviously I was wrong," Puck bit out, spitting out another mouthful of blood. He really needed to stop biting his bottom lip after it had been split open. "What's up, Doc?" he asked with a weak smile.

The man obviously found no humor in the question. He frowned and looked over at Beiste. "I'm taking him to the locker room. He's not in any shape to finish this game," he said.

She nodded. "Do whatever you need to," she said.

"Come with me, Puck," he said.

Puck followed the older man without a question.

On his way, he didn't stop himself from looking for Schuester, who was standing next to Sue now, and pinning him with the harshest glare he could muster. Judging by the way that the older man flushed and looked away, the glare had been effective.

When they passed the Cheerios, he sent Santana his trademark false grin. She scowled at him, flipping him the bird and saying nothing.

Once the two of them were alone in the locker room, Puck spoke up. "Look, Mister Lopez, I didn't start the fight this time," he said.

"I know that, Noah. The entire stadium knows that, though it is odd that no one intervened sooner," he said. "And I've told you before that you can call me by my first name. Let me see your arm."

Puck hesitated for a minute before doing as told. "I can't take you serious and call you Elvis at the same time, Doc," he said. "How's Sara?"

"She's worried about you," the man said. "Then you try my middle name. It's Oscar," he said. "How are you feeling?"

He thought about it, taking a mental inventory of his injuries. "My left eye is going to be a black eye, there are two, maybe three broken ribs, and my arm fucking hurts," he said. "Other than that, I've just got a few bruises that don't feel too bad," he said.

Oscar nodded. "Maribel already called for an ambulance to get you to the hospital," he said. "And you're doing an excellent job at hiding it so far, but I know you're in a great deal of pain," he added before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a prescription bottle of painkillers.

"Please," Puck said, losing his voice a bit at the sight of the pills. "I'll handle the pain. It's really not that bad," he said.

"Noah, my daughter is good at keeping her secrets, but even she knows when to tell me a few things," Oscar said.

Puck paled at that statement. "What has she told you?" he asked, his eyes not leaving the bottle of pills.

"Just enough for me to be able to tell you that you don't have anything to be afraid of. Your mother's problems are not hereditary," Oscar said. "I'm just asking you to take one, and it will hold you over until we get you to the hospital."

"And you're sure-"

"Noah, I give you my word that I'm not going to let you get in any way dependent on any painkillers," he said, handing the younger man one pill.

Puck hesitated for a long moment before taking the pill and swallowing it quickly.

"Good. Now, can you get out of your football gear without hurting yourself any further?" he asked.

"Only my jersey and the shoulder pads," Puck said, wriggling out of them as he spoke. "Everything else is going to hurt too much," he said, glancing down at himself and frowning when he saw the blood on his undershirt.

Oscar nodded. "Now, try not to move your arm too much. The paramedics will take care of everything once they get here, and I give you my word that if you need surgery, I'll take care of it myself," he said, watching as Puck slowly got back to his feet.

"Thanks, I think," he said as the two of them walked out of the locker room.

The game had resumed, and only a few people seemed to notice that Puck and Oscar were walking toward the stands.

Maribel was holding Sara's hand while Santana and Brittany stood not far from them. The four of them looked incredibly worried when they saw Puck walking up.

Knowing his sister as he did, Puck knelt down a bit and held out his uninjured hand. He kept his wounded arm close to his chest and tried not to move it more than absolutely necessary. One small smile at his sister had Sara running into the embrace, wrapping her arms around Puck's chest and squeezing him as tightly as she could. Puck wrapped his good arm around her.

"Noah," Sara said, and it was obvious that she was crying.

"Sara, ahuvi, don't worry. It's nothing," Puck said, only barely able to restrain himself from speaking only in Yiddish. With any luck, Sara would remember that sticking to English would be helpful for the doctors. He could almost guarantee that she'd be speaking only in Yiddish when they got back home.

"But abale, you're bleeding," Sara said in a quiet, scared whine. "Why did that boy hurt you?"

Puck grinned. "He was jealous that he doesn't have a sister as badass as you," he said. Carefully, so as not to hurt himself further and so he wouldn't drop her, Puck picked Sara up, balancing her on his left hip. "I told him that I didn't want to have to share you and he got angry. Do you want to come with me in the ambulance, or do you want Aunt Mari to take you to the hospital?" he asked, gritting his teeth to bite back a groan of pain. He looked over at Oscar.

The older man seemed to know exactly what Puck was asking. "You'll start feeling the effects in less than a minute," he said. "Or do you need another pill?"

"No," Puck said harshly. He looked down at Sara and offered her a smile. "Ahuvi, it's just a little bruise. I'll be fine, I promise," he said. He found himself leaning forward a bit to start to press a kiss to Sara's forehead before remembering that his lip had been split open during the fight, so he settled for resting his forehead against hers. "I love you, little sister," he said quietly.

Sara said nothing, choosing instead to wrap her arms tightly around Puck's neck. She squeezed a bit, tightly enough that it was clear she wasn't letting go any time soon but without restricting Puck's breathing in any ways.

"Let's go up to meet the ambulance, Doc," Puck said, looking over at Oscar.

He nodded and motioned for Puck to make his way toward the parking lot. "Maribel, would you bring Santana and Miss Brittany up to the hospital behind us?" he asked.

"Dad, I can-"

Oscar looked over at her. "I know you're more upset than you're letting on, and I don't want you driving until you've calmed down," he said. "I'll be riding with Noah and Sara. Gather your things and meet us at the hospital." That said, he looked over at Puck. "Go wait for the ambulance," he said. "I'm going to be right behind you. Give me just a moment to speak with Maribel."

Puck was silent, but he did as instructed.

Before he made it to the parking lot, Puck was stopped once again, this time by Will Schuester. He was more than slightly angry about the man confronting him again, but he knew that he wasn't going to be able to properly convey his feelings while he was carrying his sister. "Get out of the way, Schuester," he said coldly.

"We need to talk, Puck," Will said.

Puck hesitated for a moment before stepping close to Will so that he was close enough to speak with the man without Sara overhearing most of what he was saying. "Come here," he said, tightening his hold on Sara to make sure that she didn't slip.

"Yes?" Will asked, taking a few steps closer to Puck.

"My arm is broken, I've got broken ribs and I'm going to have a black eye. I don't know if this fight is going to end up with the police getting involved, and I can't have my little sister watching me get towed away in handcuffs," Puck said in a quiet but firm voice. His emotions were closed off, but there was an angry glint in his eyes that made him seem older than his seventeen years. "I told you to back off, and Santana told you to back off, but it apparently hasn't gotten through to you," he said.

Will shifted uncomfortably, frowning. "What, exactly, am I backing away from?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Rumors are just rumors, and I don't need you asking over and over about something that's none of your business," Puck said.

"I'm only trying to help."

At that, Puck sighed a bit. "I know," he said. "But you're just going to make more problems than you're trying to solve." He glanced over his shoulder and saw Oscar talking on his cellphone and walking up toward them. "I know you're just trying to help, Mr. Schue. If I get in over my head, I'll talk to you, but until then, you need to stop trying to push into business that ain't yours. Do you get it now, or do I need to start using language that's not child-friendly?" he asked, eyeing Will warily.

Before the older man had the chance to say anything, Sara perked up. "The ambulance is here, Noah!" she said with a worried smile. "They won't need to turn the sirens on, right?"

"Course not, kiddo," Puck said, looking up at her and grinning. "I'm a badass, ahuvi. I'm just going there to hang out with Doc Lopez and flirt with the nurses. We're just going to score you some lollipops and a Spiderman bandaid." He looked over at Will, watching him expectantly.

Will was silent for only a few seconds. "As long as you attend all your classes, participate fully in Glee and stay out of fights, I'll stop asking you about this," he said. "But I am going to keep looking into whatever this is," he added.

Puck scowled but said nothing, choosing instead to walk past Will and head up to the ambulance. "You got quiet with Spiderman," he said, looking over at Sara.

"I don't like Spiderman anymore," she said. "Batman is better."

"Really?" he asked, grinning. "How come?"

"He fights better bad guys and he has a cooler costume," Sara said. She looked over Puck's shoulder at Oscar. "Is Doctor Oscar mad at you?"

"Course not," Puck said. "He's worried about my arm," he said.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Sara asked, looking down at Puck's arm, which he was holding against his side and keeping as still as possible.

Puck shook his head. "Doc Oscar is a smart guy and he used some tricks to make sure that it doesn't hurt," he said as they reached the ambulance and the paramedics hopped out to meet them. "And as long as I get your autograph on the cast, my arm will feel perfect again," he added.

"Puckerman," one of the paramedics - an unfortunately familiar face - said. "What happened?"

"I got jumped by a linebacker in the middle of the game," Puck said. "It's just my arm and a few ribs this time. You've got to be at least a little impressed, Kelly," he said. "I haven't seen you and your five o'clock shadow for almost a month," he said.

Oscar stopped mid-step and glared at Puck before he started talking to the other paramedic. He didn't say anything to Puck, though. Instead, he got into the front of the ambulance and continued his conversation with the paramedic.

"Right. Totally impressed," the man said flatly. He wiped his face of all expression and pointed at his face. "See my amazed face?"

Puck laughed quietly, the sound falling short when his ribs reminded him that it wasn't such a good idea. "It's getting better," he said.

"I've been practicing," Kelly said. He watched as Puck put Sara down and helped the two of them into the ambulance. "Sara, do you have someone to stay with tonight?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm staying with Santana and Brittany tonight," she said. "Are you keeping Noah in bed tonight?"

Kelly nodded, smirking at the phrasing. "Since it's the weekend, I'm going to make sure that he gets a good night sleep before he takes you out for breakfast tomorrow," he said.

She grinned and made herself comfortable on the bench in the ambulance. She watched as Kelly checked Puck over and made sure that she stayed out of the way.

As Kelly got into the ambulance himself, he leaned close enough to Puck to whisper to him. "The fact that I've taken to keeping clothing that's your size in the back of my car means that we've got a problem," he said before leaning back and starting a more detailed inspection of Puck's wounds as the ambulance drove off toward the hospital.


	4. Whip It!

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

I'm going to apologize for the lateness of this update. I caught Olympic fever, and my grandma came down to visit, so my focus was elsewhere. (To make up for it, there should be another update in a few days.)

**Oh, hey. **One more thing. Before y'all start reading this chapter, I'm gonna warn you that there's talk of bondage in this chapter. (It's nothing overtly graphic or anything, but if there's anyone uncomfortable with the topic, this chapter might not be your favorite.)

Chapter 4: Whip It!

Puck woke up blearily, not sure for a moment where he was. The rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor brought him back as soon as he recognized the sound, and he groaned. He slowly sat up, scowling at the sight of an IV connected to his left arm. As he'd expected, his right hand was wrapped up in a cast, though the blue tape around it was new.

The door to the hospital room opened a few minutes later, and Kelly walked in. "Good, you're up," he said.

"What the hell did you do to me?"

"Sara might have mentioned that you haven't been sleeping or eating all that much lately, and I might have passed that news onto Dr. Lopez. Whatever he did with that little kernel of information, I had no control over, and I certainly didn't give him any advice," Kelly said as he started unhooking the IV from Puck's arm.

Puck frowned. "Is Sara alright?" he asked. "And how am I going to pay for all this?"

"She's with Dr. Lopez and his family," Kelly said. "Be careful standing up. You might feel a bit lightheaded."

"You didn't answer my question."

Kelly shrugged. "Doc Lopez added you to his insurance plan after you came in with two black eyes, a broken nose, and internal bleeding from your fight club," he said. "I thought he would have told you by now."

"We don't really talk when I'm not bleeding or otherwise broken," Puck said as he stood up. He felt a little bit lightheaded, but Kelly was at his side, doing his best to hold the taller man steady. "He asks too many questions, but he and Maribel and Santana all like Sara and they've practically set up the guest room for her," he said.

Kelly was silent for a moment before he handed Puck a large paper bag. "You don't have to tell me any of this, you know," he said.

Puck shrugged, not saying anything. He pulled a pair of jeans out of the bag, and then a grey hoodie and a pair of brown moccasins. "Moccasins?" he asked, looking over at Kelly.

"It was all I could do at late notice," he said with a slight frown. "I'll give you a few minutes to change and then we need to talk about what's going to happen," he said. At Puck's nod, he walked out of the room, shutting the door gently behind himself.

Puck changed quickly, doing his best not to make too much noise when his injured ribs shifted painfully. It took him less than five minutes to change, but with his arm in the cast, he couldn't zip up the sweatshirt. Muttering curses to himself, he stepped out of the hospital room, not at all surprised to find Kelly standing on the other side of the door with an almost nervous look on his face. "Everything is fine," he said quietly. "But I can't zip up the jacket."

Kelly nodded and zipped it up for him, showing no reaction to the medley of different-colored bruises on Puck's upper body. "I don't start for another hour, so I can drop you off somewhere. I don't want you driving for at least another few hours, no lifting heavy machinery, and definitely no drugs and alcohol," he said. "Walk with me," he said, taking hold of Puck's uninjured hand and heading toward the elevator. "If your arm or your ribs start hurting, I want you to come back to see me right away," he added.

"We've done this before."

"Don't remind me," Kelly snapped. He pushed the button for the first level of the parking garage. "What questions do you have?" he asked.

"I'm off the football team, aren't I?" he asked.

"Do you really even need to ask? Hell, you're lucky I didn't get the doctor to bar you from playing the guitar," he said. "And I want you to go easy on the guitar-playing while your arm is still in the cast," he added as they stepped out of the elevator and headed for Kelly's old green sedan, which wasn't parked too far away.

"Am I at least allowed to work out?"

Kelly thought about it, not saying anything until both he and Puck were in his car. "You are aware that you can't lift weights for a while, I would hope, but you're free to do anything else as long as you're not pushing yourself too hard," he said. "Where am I taking you?"

"I need to go back to McKinley to pick up a few things," Puck said without hesitation. "What time is it?" he asked, suddenly realizing that he had no idea what time it was. Or what day it was, really.

"It's about half past five," Kelly said as he drove past the parking garage. "Your body processed the drugs faster than most people, as usual," he said.

Puck nodded and leaned back in the seat, not saying anything until Kelly pulled into the parking lot at McKinley High School.

When the car pulled to a stop in the parking lot, Kelly looked over at Puck. "I want you to make sure that you take care of yourself. No fighting, no drinking, no drugs, and -"

"Kelly, I got it. We've both been here before and I know what to do. I'll see you on at the end of the week so that you can make sure that I haven't gotten any worse," Puck said. Knowing how to best placate the older man, he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over until he could feel Kelly's breath on his lips. He smirked to himself when the man's eyes fluttered shut. "I'll be fine, Kelly," he purred. "You're a good man, and a good friend. You've always taken good care of me when I need you."

Without any warning, Kelly grabbed the back of Puck's head and pulled him into a rough kiss. "Do not let me find you in need of urgent medical attention again," he said when he let go of Puck. "Promise me," he said, sounding almost desperate.

Puck nodded, offering Kelly a calm, seductive smile. "I'll do my best," he said quietly. When Kelly's brow furrowed slightly, he kissed Kelly again. From the way that Kelly whined slightly at the contact, he knew he'd been able to convince the man. "I'll see you on Friday so you can make sure that I'm doing better," he said before slipping out of the car and heading to the side door, near the gym, that Figgins never locked.

Kelly's car pulled out of the parking lot just before he walked into the school, and Puck smirked to himself. Kelly was a good man and he only had the best of intentions, but he was also easily manipulated. When Kelly had first found Puck in the emergency room, Puck had had a sprained ankle and black eye. Kelly somehow knew almost exactly what his situation was, and he'd taken Puck under his wing since then. About eight months after they established a decent rapport, Puck had come in to ask for an STD screening and, in an abstract way of trying to keep Puck calm while they waited for results, Kelly had told him that he was bicurious and that there was no shame in being attracted to both women and men. Puck had waited a while before testing out the strength of their friendship, but from his first move, Puck had managed to wrap the man around his little finger. A few kisses, maybe a blow job or two, and Kelly was putty in his hands.

Pulling himself out of his mind, Puck headed to the lockers near the showers. They hadn't been assigned to students for years, and there were a few jocks who used them to hide their stash of weed or a few bottles of liquor during the school day. Puck, however, had claimed the locker at the far end of the row, and he kept a MasterLock on it all the time. In it were a few changes of clothing and the toiletries needed to get an adequate shower after working out on the school campus.

He quickly changed out of his borrowed clothing and into a pair of black track pants and a lightweight grey t-shirt. The moccasins were exchanged for his running shoes, and he grabbed his iPod from it's hiding spot inside his jacket. His cellphone was in there, and he grabbed it as well, just to be on the safe side. Before he left the locker room, he went into Beiste's office and quickly found the mini-fridge in the back of the room. He took out a few bottles of water from the fridge, grabbed a towel, and headed out to the track. He set the water bottles at the starting line of the outermost track row.

It was a nice enough morning outside, but the clouds that gathered on the horizon warned of a coming thunderstorm. With any luck, the weather would hold out long enough for him to run at least a few miles.

He put his iPod in his pocket, put his headphones on, and started running around the track. If the weather held out, he'd be able to get about 10 miles in about an hour and a half, and then he'd be able to take a few days off.

He'd managed to make it about ten laps around the track before he noticed someone else warming up at the starting line of the track. He scowled then he realized who it was, but he found himself curious enough to stop running and turn his iPod off. "What are you doing here, Schuester?" he asked as the man knelt down to fix his shoes.

Will jumped slightly but looked up at him. "Oh, hey, Puck," he said. He finished tying his left shoe and stood up. "I came to run a few laps," he said. "I'm training for a run in a few weeks, and I didn't think anyone else would be up and at school this early on a Saturday morning," he said. "What about you?"

"I come here every few days to work out before school," Puck said. He hesitated for a moment, debating with himself as to whether or not to converse with the Spanish teacher, but he finally shrugged to himself. He set his iPod down next to his phone and dropped the towel on top of it. "How many laps are you doing?" he asked as he opened one of the water bottles and quickly drank the entire thing.

"Until I get tired, really," Will said. "What about you?"

"I've got ten down, and I'm going to go about twenty more before I move on with my day," he said. "You can join me, I guess, as long as you don't annoy me."

At that, Will smiled a bit. "I'll do my best," he said. "How's your arm?"

"Sore," Puck said, looking down at the blue cast.

With that said, the two men started running at a quick pace around the track.

"Is there any reason you're running something close to 10 miles on our school track?" Will asked.

Puck smirked a bit. "I needed to clear my head," he said. "What about your race?"

"I'm running a half-marathon in Columbus over the long weekend," Will said.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few laps, and for a moment Puck thought that Will was actually going to stay quiet for the last fifteen laps. He glanced over at Will, frowning slightly when he noticed the scowl on the man's face. This probably wasn't going to end well for either of them, as that was the patented Will Schuester scowl of concern.

"I know I'm going to regret this, but what's got your panties in a wad?" Puck asked.

Will hesitated for a moment. "Everything that you say to me will stay between the two of us. You've got my word on that," he said. "And I'm not trying to insult you or offend you in any way."

"Just ask and get it over with," Puck said. "If you've gone too far, I'll just break your nose."

"Good to know," Will said, eyeing Puck almost warily. He was silent for another lap, and then he took a deep breath and started speaking. "When Terry and I were still married, she and her friends would get together for a book club. It met once or twice a week, and it was actually easy enough for me to find out that it wasn't exactly book club."

"What's your point?" Puck asked, though there was a sinking feeling in his gut.

"Terry mentioned that Emily Osbourne and her cousin Jessica Alvarez were part of the club as well," Will said. "Terry brought me to a few of the meetings," he said.

Puck swallowed the heavy lump in the back of his throat but didn't say anything. Instead, he'd wait to see where Schuester was taking the conversation.

"I may not be the smartest man around, but I know all too well what it looks like when you get lashed with a leather strap," Will said. His face was beet red, and it had absolutely nothing to do with their 6-minute mile pace. "And I was wondering how far you've let Jess go," he said, in a much quieter voice than before.

Not sure if he could trust Will with something this serious, Puck bit his lip. Finally, he nodded to himself. "How do you know it's Jess?"

"Because when I went to that one book club meeting, she took a great deal of pride in showing me her collection of whips," he said. "Terry managed to get me into restraints and she let Jess use a belt and a riding crop on me, among other things," he said.

Puck looked over at Will, his eyes wide. Of all the things the older man could have said, that was one of the last things he expected. He didn't know how to respond, either, so he chose to just stay silent.

"Do you have a safe word, at least?" Will asked.

Puck frowned.

WIll took his silence as a negative, and he didn't seem pleased by it, though he didn't vocalize his feelings.

Another two laps went by before Puck said anything. "She has a leather muzzle that she puts on me because she really doesn't want to hear what I've got to say," he said. "When the arrangement was first set up, there were limits, and if she breaks them, I won't do business with her again," he said.

"Do you have a safe word with any of your other, um, clients?" Will asked, blushing a deeper red.

Puck shrugged. "None of what I do really has anything to do with my comfort levels," he said. His eyes narrowed suddenly, and he looked over at Will. "Why are you asking all this?"

"I don't want to see you getting hurt," Will said plainly. He didn't look at Puck as they finished their fourth lap together. "There are times when I'm not sure if you know it or not, but you are my student and I do care about you, Puck," he said.

That answer had Puck relaxing for a moment. "What's your safe word, then?" he asked.

"I haven't been exactly active in that lifestyle for a while, but I've stuck with two. When I'm subbing, it's hedgehog. When I'm the dom, though, I always suggest spider. Unless there's already a safe word that they're comfortable with," he said.

Puck opened his mouth to say something else when his phone started ringing. Without any warning, he turned around and sprinted back to the phone, picking it up and answering it almost before he'd stopped running. "Hello?" he asked. It was Santana's number on his caller ID, but he had a feeling it was Sara calling him.

"Noah?"

He was right.

"Abale?" she asked, resorting to Yiddish when he didn't answer her right away.

"I'm here, ahuvi," he said, going back onto the track and starting to walk so that he didn't cramp up. "Did you have fun on your sleepover?" he asked.

"Brittany braided my hair, and she taught me how to tie a flower into my hair without it falling out," Sara said happily. She went on to describe everything she'd done while at Santana's the previous night, down to the food that Maribel had cooked and her favorite songs in the three Disney movies that she'd watched - even though she'd seen all of them at least a dozen times. "Are you okay, Noah? When you got into the ambulance, you were hurt really bad," she said, abruptly changing the subject from the Little Mermaid.

"I'm almost perfect, Sara," Puck said, movings to the far side of the track as Will passed him. "I even have a blue cast for you to draw on later today."

"About that," Santana said, and it was only then that Puck realized he was on speakerphone. "She's got a birthday party with Jenna Taylor from her class later today, and she needs to get a gift for the girl," she said.

"And we're going out to breakfast!" Sara chimed in happily.

Puck smiled. He knew that she'd be alright as soon as he assured her that he'd be okay, and as long as nothing else happened, she'd be able to keep her happy mood for a while. "Course we are," he said. "I just finished my run, so as soon as I take a shower and clean up, I'll be over to pick you up."

"Can Santana and Brittany come too?" Sara asked.

"We've got our own breakfast to get to, kiddo," Santana said. "We'll take you up on the offer next time, though. Puckerman, be here by eight."

Puck nodded, despite knowing that she couldn't see him. "I'll be there. Sara, make sure you're ready to go by then."

"I will," she said happily before hanging up the phone.

Puck stopped walking around the track and headed back over to where he'd put his things. He emptied another bottle of water, grabbed his towel, and put both his phone and his iPod in his pocket.

Will came to a stop a few feet away from him. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"It's all fine. Help yourself to the rest of the water if you want," he said before awkwardly shifting his weight.

Will smiled a bit, his blush returning. "Like I said, I've been out of the lifestyle for a while, but if you want to talk about anything related to that. Or just in general, really. I'm here to talk, and everything we say will stay between the two of us," he said.

It was Puck's turn to blush. "Right," he said. "You do know that that's probably not going to happen."

Will shrugged. "As long as you know the offer is on the table," he said. "I'll see you on Monday," he said before going back to his run.

Puck watched him for a moment before he glanced up at the sky. It had only gotten darker, and he had a feeling that the coming thunderstorm would last for hours. Scowling, he headed back into the locker room and got into the shower. With luck, he'd be able to get to Santana's house before the rain started up.


	5. Scotty Doesn't Know

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

Here's the makeup chapter for the late one last week. There's a slight time skip in it, and Rory makes his appearance here, even though it's not quite in order with canon. (He's not going to be a major player in this, but he's just too much fun to leave out at the moment.) Also, you'll start to notice Kurt being bitchier than in canon. This is partially because it's necessary for the plot, partially because the character always seemed to be holding back his bitch-factor for self-preservation, and also because I really don't like the character of Kurt, just in general.

The next chapter should be up sometime this Sunday, but it will probably be later in the day.

Other than that, enjoy! And feedback is always welcome, and in this case, really helpful. (I am still new to this fandom, and I don't want to fuck anything up too badly.)

Chapter 5: Scotty Doesn't Know

For the next two months, Puck managed to blend into the school without any problems. There were complications with his arm, and the doctors had to break it a second time for it to heal properly. Because of the injury - and the fight that led to it - he'd been removed from the football team. As a result, he'd actually gone to all of his classes, and he'd been able to spend more time with Sara. He'd also been able to pick up more than a few extra sessions with his clients.

All in all, the time seemed to fly by, and before he knew it, winter break was starting in two weeks.

Will had been friendly enough, and he hadn't backed Puck into a corner for another forced conversation. They'd had a few more conversations on the track, and the runs had become something of a tradition even after Will had run the half-marathon in Columbus. The conversations had stayed shallow for the most part, though with a mutual promise of confidentiality, Will had started to open up about his old habits. Puck had even warmed up enough to ask a few questions himself, but he had never shared any more of his own experiences.

"Puckerman," a woman's voice said, knocking Puck out of his reverie. "Stay after class, please," she said before turning her focus back onto her copy of the newspaper.

Just seconds later, the bell rang and everyone but Puck gathered their things and left.

"I'm not failing this class," Puck said once it was just him and the teacher.

She laughed. "I am well aware of that, Mister Puckerman," Miss Riley said. "I did want to speak with you about something, and you aren't in any trouble."

"What's this about, then?" he asked, gathering his things and shoving them into his backpack.

"It's about this," Miss Riley said, setting a drawing down on the table in front of Puck. "And the other work that you've been turning in over the semester."

Puck looked at the drawing, the faint hint of a smile on his face. It had been their first pastel assignment of the three that would be assigned over the year. He'd chosen to use a picture of Sara from Halloween the year before, when she'd dressed as a fairy princess and he'd bought sparklers for them to play with in the backyard at their Nana's house. He looked up at Miss Riley, the smile quickly fading into a slight frown. "Is there a problem?"

She shook her head. "Quite the opposite, actually. This is one of the best pieces that I've seen all year, even from my art-fanatics," she said. "I was hoping you would tell me how you managed to pull off this caliber of work when your previous work was decent, but hardly passable," she said.

Puck was quiet for a long moment, not sure what to say. He shifted a bit, not looking up at the woman as he pulled his backpack over his shoulder. "I'm going to be late for Glee," he said quietly.

The woman sighed. "You can go, then," she said, sounding almost disappointed. "But I expect you to continue to meet this standard for the rest of your time in my class," she said. "I don't want to see you wasting your talent now that I know you're capable of this level of work."

He just shrugged and walked out of the class.

Santana was standing outside the room, waiting for him, and he was only barely able to stop before physically colliding with her. "You're not in trouble, are you?" she asked, craning her head to look into the classroom over Puck's shoulder. "I'll fuck her up if you need."

"Nothing like that," he said, draping an arm over her shoulders and walking the two of them off to the choir room. "Are you ready for our song?"

At that, Santana laughed. "If the leprechaun cries, I don't want you trying to bitch out on our wager," she said.

He smirked. "I'll get you your champagne, but only if the potato cries," Puck said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "And that's only going to happen if you put on a show."

Santana grinned as they walked into the choir room and took their usual seats in the back of the room.

Will looked up at Puck when he saw the younger man walk in. He offered the Jewish teen a small smile, not surprised when he only received a slight nod in response. "Is everyone here?" he asked, looking around.

Rachel looked around as well, grinning.

"We were just waiting on the delinquents, Mister Schue," Kurt said with a snide look in Puck and Santana's direction - which Santana quickly countered with her middle finger. That interaction had everyone else in the room going back to their own conversations.

Mercedes, Sam, Kurt, and Rachel went back to their conversation about which songs would be best for the Regionals competition that would happen about eight weeks after they got back from winter break. Quinn was chiming in with her own suggestions every now and then, but she stayed quiet for the most part.

Santana looked over at Brittany, speaking quietly in Spanish. Oddly enough, the blonde seemed to understand everything that was said, even responding with a few Spanish words of her own.

Mike and Tina were talking about where to go for dinner that night, while Finn and Artie were talking about the latest video game that they were playing.

Rory was none too discreetly trying to eavesdrop on Santana's conversation, and that had Puck smirking, though he stayed quiet. Instead, he just checked to make sure that his phone was on buzz, and that he hadn't missed any messages.

"Alright, that's enough," Will said, a few minutes later. He cast a glance up at Puck again, but this time the boy was too busy frowning at his phone. "I trust that you've all adequately prepared yourselves for the last performance of this calendar year?" he asked once he had everyone's attention.

"When are we going to start working on our routine for the Regionals?" Kurt asked, completely ignoring Will's question.

"After we get back from break," Will said. "Now, who'd like to go first?"

As had become routine with the singing order, Rachel went first with a rendition of Madonna's "Live to Tell." Kurt followed that up with a Phil Collins song, Artie performed Usher's "Confessions Part II," and Quinn chose an interesting song, Carly Simon's "You're So Vein." The others chose a surprising number of songs that Will hadn't heard before. Brittany, on the other hand, chose to go with a song from The Cure, which she managed to perform surprisingly well. Finally, only Santana and Puck were left to perform, and judging by the mischevious looks on their faces, it wasn't going to be good.

Santana sauntered down to the front of the choir room, deliberately swaying her hips. She looked over her shoulder as Puck walked down behind her, and she sent a wink in Rory's direction. "This one's for you, babe," she said with a smirk.

Puck laughed quietly and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her so that her back was flush against his front. He looked over at the guitarist, who grinned at him and started playing. "Hey!" he cried, just as the guitarist started up again.

"Scotty doesn't know,

That Fiona and me

Do it in my van every Sunday.

She tells him she's in church,

But she doesn't go

Still she's on her knees, and..."

Throughout the first verse, Santana had been dancing sexily. She'd even gone over to the guitarist and danced with him, much to his amusement. Of course, with Santana's sexual orientation one of the worst-kept secrets in the Glee club, no one read anything into it. Apart from Rory, who looked close to tears.

When Puck looked over at her, letting her know that he was getting ready for the chorus, she came back over to him. They did a quick, inappropriate dance together before she started to sing along with Puck.

"Scotty doesn't know, oh.

Scotty doesn't know-oh.

So don't tell Scotty!

Scotty doesn't know.

So don't tell Scotty!"

The chorus alone was enough to have everyone laughing and enjoying the song. Mike, Finn, and Artie had joined in on the chorus when they recognized the song, and Brittany had joined Santana in her dance.

"Fiona says that she's out shopping," Puck sang, directing a grin in Rory's direction. "But she's under me and I'm not stopping."

"Why?" Santana yelled, and that was the cue. Everyone in the room, apart from Rory, Kurt, and Rachel, joined in on the chorus.

Will, for his part, leaned back in his chair and watched the goings on with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. Hopefully no one would decide to walk past the classroom at the moment, otherwise he had a higher chance than usual that he might be fired.

"Cause Scotty doesn't know,

Scotty doesn't know,

Scotty doesn't know,

Scotty doesn't know.

So don't tell Scotty.

Scotty doesn't knooooooooow...

Don't tell Scotty!"

Puck grinned and continued on with the song.

"I can't believe he's so trustin',

While I'm right behind you thrustin'," he sang, acting the verse out with Santana, who was doing her best not to laugh.

Kurt, it seemed, had had enough. He stood up, glaring at Puck and Santana with his practiced Ice Queen glare. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he all but shrieked, and everyone else fell silent. Even the musicians stopped playing. Everyone turned a reproachful look at Kurt, who seemed completely unaffected. Instead, he whirled on Will. "How can you allow them to sing something like this?" he yelled. "It's going to get us all in trouble, and Rory's practically crying!"

"It's a song about secrets, you frigid little bitch," Santana snapped, looking all too eager for the coming fight.

"Knock it off, both of you," Blaine said coldly, catching everyone's attention. "Kurt, relax. It's just a song, and it does abide by this week's general theme. And you two," he said, looking over at Puck and Santana, who were taking no small amount of glee in Kurt being scolded by his boyfriend. "The song is inappropriate for a school setting like this," he said. "You could have gotten us all in trouble, and you could have even got Mr. Schuester fired if the wrong person saw something. Speaking of which, Mr. Schue, why didn't you stop them before Kurt had to intervene?" he asked.

Will frowned. "Because I'm the teacher in this room and while I found it more colorful than some of the other performances, there was nothing in their performance that I found inappropriate enough to interrupt," he said.

Puck grinned but didn't say anything.

"Since tensions are high right now, why don't we all call it a day. I'll see you all tomorrow," Will said.

That seemed to be enough for pretty much everyone, as almost all of them collected their bags and left the choir room, hissing insults at each other as they went. The musicians followed them out, though there was significantly less animosity between them than there was between the students.

Almost as Will expected, Puck was the last student in the choir room. He'd glanced at his phone again, this time relaxing a bit and sitting on the floor in back corner of the room. He ignored Will for a little while, instead choosing to pull his guitar out of it's case. He plucked at it for a few minutes, discreetly watching as Will picked up a few things and started cleaning up some of the mess that had been left behind.

About ten minutes later, after everything had been cleaned up and both doors had been closed, Puck felt more than saw someone sit down on the floor next to him. He didn't look up, nor did he stop playing the tune that he'd been playing for the past few minutes.

"I'm sorry about what happened, Puck," Will said after listening to Puck play for another few minutes.

He shrugged, not saying anything.

"Is your arm feeling alright?"

Puck nodded. "It just needed a bit of physical therapy after the cast came off for the last time," he said, this time looking up at Will. He didn't stop playing the guitar, though.

This time, Will recognized the song he was playing. "I didn't take you for the Irish Lullaby type," he said.

Puck just shrugged again, and he played in silence for a few minutes.

"How long have you been playing?" Will asked.

"Since I was a kid," he said, looking back down at his guitar. "Younger than Sara, at least. My dad started teaching me before he left, and he gave me the guitar as a gift before he took off. I stopped playing for a while, and then Sara found it one night and asked me to play it for her. I picked it up again and she likes it, so I've kept playing." He looked over at Will. "When she tells me that she doesn't like it anymore, I'll stop playing. Why?"

Will shook his head, not saying anything.

Puck hesitated for a moment. "I stopped going to fight club," he said quietly.

"When was that?" Will asked. He was worried, but he'd learned from their past conversations to keep his tone light and not to demand any answers from the younger man.

"About two weeks ago. It was the first time that I went since before the football game," he said. "I was undefeated."

"What happened?" Will asked.

"I ended up with another few cracked ribs, a black eye, and a shit-ton of bruises," Puck said. "And I won eight grand," he said in a quieter voice.

Will wasn't sure how to react to that, so he said nothing.

"It's not as much as I've won in the past, but I talked to Dallas and he agreed to let me retire after the fight. He's got a niece about Sara's age, and he doesn't want me to risk fucking her up for life by having some cop coming to find her and let her know that my body was found in some ditch in the middle of the night," Puck said.

Will stayed silent.

Puck kept playing his guitar, and he paused for a moment before he started speaking again. "For my last fight, I went up against Dallas. He didn't throw the fight or anything, but he definitely went easier on me than he could have. The fight was over in a few minutes, and I took home eight grand," he said. "I had a perfect record when I retired," he added.

"That's good, I suppose," Will said. "Is there some reason why you chose now to stop fighting?"

"Kelly told me that if my arm got broken again, there would probably be permanent nerve damage and I'd lose some of my mobility in that arm," he said. At a confused look from Will, Puck grinned. "He's the nurse who's been making sure I don't end up dead on the side of the road. He talked to Beiste, and she agreed that I can't play on the football team anymore."

"Did he know about your fight club?" he asked.

"He had no clue, and I need it to stay that way," Puck said. "He's making sure that I stay as healthy as possible, and he's giving me STD screenings every three months," he said.

Will smiled slightly. "That's reassuring," he said, though it was clear that he didn't believe it. He fell silent, just listening to Puck play for another few minutes.

They were quiet for another few minutes, and Puck started playing a song that Will didn't recognize.

"I could teach you, you know," he said quietly.

Will frowned. "To fight?" He wasn't sure how knowing how to fight would be useful to him, but he'd be more concerned with how it would look to everyone else - a teenager with a history of problems with the law teaching an older man how to fight would definitely be looked upon with suspicion.

"Well, I could do that, I guess, but I was talking about the guitar. I could teach you to play, if you want," he said, nodding at his guitar.

Will smiled slightly. "I'd like that," he said.

Puck opened his mouth to say something, but his phone buzzed suddenly, surprising both of them. Puck looked up at his phone and scowled before all expression left his face.

"Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "I have to go," he said. He stood up abruptly and put his guitar back into it's case. "If you want me to teach you the guitar, it'll have to be another time."

Will nodded and stood up as well. "Alright," he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper with his cellphone number and his home address written on it. He handed it to Puck, who looked at it.

When Puck realized what it was, his face fell and he refused to look Will in the eye. Instead, he packed up a bit quicker, and he deliberately moved out of arm's reach of the older man. As he kept moving, it seemed almost as though Puck was shrinking into himself, and making himself as small as he was able.

It took a moment before Will realized that Puck was thinking, and when it finally sank in, it was all he could do to not panic. "Puck, I didn't give you that for the reasons you think," he said. He wasn't surprised when Puck didn't look up at him. "I'm not trying to solicit you at all. I just want you to know that you've got a safe place, if you're willing to trust me even just a little bit. If you need a ride, or if you need to talk, you've got my number, and if you need somewhere safe to sleep at night, I've got a pull-out couch in my living room," he said. "There's a spare key hidden in the windowsill next to the door, so that's there if you need it," he added.

Puck was silent for a long moment as he pulled his backpack over his shoulder. He shoved the scrap of paper in his front pocket and picked up his guitar case.

Will watched him, wanting to say something, but knowing that anything else he said would be met with sarcasm and possibly a left hook. When Puck moved to make his way out of the choir room, he stepped back to make sure that Puck didn't feel cornered or boxed in.

Before he left the room, he turned and looked up at Will. "Thank you," he said, his voice a bit hoarse. "I'm not going to promise that I'll use it," he said.

Will nodded. "Just as long as you know that I'm here to help you, however you're willing to let me," he said.

Puck just shrugged again and walked out of the room.

...

Hours later, shortly after midnight, Will woke up with a start when he heard his front door open and shut quietly. He sat up, listening to see if he was being robbed, but he just someone walking around and then the faucet in his kitchen turn on. He had a slight hunch that it was Puck, but he wanted to make sure before he went back to sleep.

Making as little noise as possible, he pulled on a shirt, made sure that his boxers were on straight, and stretched a bit. Before he left his bedroom, he grabbed a spare t-shirt and pair of black pajama pants from his dresser. He wasn't sure if it would be needed, but he'd rather offer it and Puck not need it than vice versa.

His kitchen light was on, and he saw Puck at the kitchen table, drinking a glass of tap water.

"Puck?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

The younger man jumped at the noise and looked up at Will. His eyes were wide, and he looked scared, but not hurt. At least, Will didn't see Puck bleeding anywhere. "You said I could crash here if I needed to," he said quietly.

Will nodded. "I know, and you're still welcome here," he said. He set the spare clothes on the other end of the table, across from Puck. "Have a good night," he said, ignoring the curious look that Puck sent him. "And I'll make breakfast for the both of us if you want to stick around that long," he added before going back into his bedroom.

He heard Puck wander around for another few minutes, and Will heard the younger man get another glass of water before everything went quiet. Will took that as a good sign, and he drifted back to sleep, doing his best not to think too much about the young man in his living room.


	6. I Want to Break Free

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

It's late, I know, and I'm sorry about that. (I was spending time with extended family and time got away from me. I also turned 22 today, so there's that.) Anyway, my university semester is starting in about two weeks, so soon my focus is going to have to be directed away from my fanfics. (This is not to say that I'm going to be slacking off or anything, but there may be a few more late chapters than we all would like.)

There is some stuff to be aware of before reading this chapter (**read: warnings**). There are references to hardcore bondage and there's some violence against a woman in this chapter. (None of it is over violent, nor is it graphic, but I feel it necessary to warn y'all before you start reading this chapter.)

Other than that, enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated! (A big thanks to everyone who has already reviewed. Y'all have helped me get through a few minor stumps so far! You're all amazing!)

Chapter 6: I Want to Break Free

They'd made it most of the eight hours back from their Regionals competition in Cleveland, Ohio, and were less than an hour away from McKinley when Will decided to go around the bus again and check on his students. Most of them were asleep, worn out by their routine, which had won them first place in the competition, and by their celebration, which had lasted for a few hours of the bus ride home. He found himself envious of the ones who could sleep on a moving bus, since it was after one in the morning and he was exceptionally tired as well. The only comfort he found was that it was Saturday, and he could go home and sleep all day without having to deal with anyone for another day.

As he walked down the aisle, Will found that he wasn't too surprised by who was still awake.

Kurt was in the front of the bus, behind Finn and Rachel, reading one of the many fashion magazines he'd brought with him for the trip. He was completely engrossed in whatever he was reading, as he didn't seem to register Will walking past his seat.

Mercedes was stretched out on the seat across from him, texting someone. Judging by the smile she got whenever she received a new text, it was from the boy on the football team that she'd been dating for about a month. She looked up at Will and looked almost ready to say something when her phone buzzed and she was pulled back into that conversation.

Everyone else seemed to be asleep, until he reached the back of the bus. Santana and Puck were still awake, and it looked like they were playing some kind of card game. Or trying to, at least. Brittany was fast asleep next to Santana, wrapped up in a Buz Lightyear blanket and her head resting on Santana's shoulder.

Puck was the first to notice Will walking up to them, and he nodded to the teacher.

Will frowned slightly when something caught his eye about Puck. Everyone on the bus was either wrapped in a blanket they'd brought from home, or they were wearing a thick winter coat. Puck, on the other hand, was just wearing the jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved Henley shirt that he'd worn on the ride up to Cleveland. "Puck," he started, leaning against the back of the seat in front of Puck. "Where's your coat?" he asked, trying to keep his voice gentle, but he didn't miss Puck's slight flinch at the question.

"Sara wanted to wear it today, so it's with her," he said. His phone buzzed for what had to be the tenth time during their bus ride. He looked over at it, scowling when he saw the number on the caller ID, and pressed ignore. "It's not that cold out," he said, turning his attention back up to Will. "Don't look so concerned. I'm fine."

At that, Santana set down her cards and looked over at Puck. "It's been snowing since we left Cleveland," she said. "And there's going to be a blizzard this weekend."

"Don't worry about it," he said with a cocky smirk in her direction. "I run hot. I'll be fine."

Santana just scowled, not saying anything.

Will was silent for a moment, waiting to see if Santana would be able to settle the conversation without him having to get involved.

It took less than a minute before Puck adopted his own scowl. "I've got that old leather jacket in my truck. I'll put it on when we get back to McKinley," he said. "Will that get you off my back?" he asked.

Santana huffed loudly but nodded. She picked up her phone and dialed someone's number. When she started speaking quietly in Spanish, it was clear that she was no longer involved in Puck's conversation, nor was she going to continue playing the game with him.

Will looked over at Puck, who was scowling at his phone again. The younger man looked exhausted, though he put up an impressive front that Will bought most of the time. There were dark circles under his eyes, though, that were more obvious in the dim light that Puck had turned on to see his cards. Will could also see Puck getting more and more nervous under his observation, and he bit back a sigh. There was no way for him to ask Puck the questions he wanted to ask without risking someone overhearing.

"Is there something you needed from me?" Puck asked as he gathered his cards and handed them back to Santana, who nodded to him and put the entire deck of cards into her purse. He looked up at Will, waiting for an answer to his question.

"You do know that if you need anything, I'll do whatever I can to help, right?" Will asked quietly.

Puck hesitated for a moment but nodded. "I'm fine, Mr. Schue," he said.

Will wasn't convinced, and judging from the look on Puck's face, Puck knew that. Still, Will nodded and headed back to his seat in the front of the bus.

The woman driving the bus looked over at him when he plopped into his seat. "Go ahead and get a quick nap, honey. We're only about half an hour away from your school," she said.

Will nodded, rubbing his face tiredly, and leaned back. It didn't take more than a minute before he was fast asleep.

...

They arrived in the parking lot at McKinley just after two in the morning, having been delayed by an accident on the outskirts of Lima. The parents of his Glee students were all waiting in parked cars, and it took some effort to wake everyone up, but soon most of his students had gone back home.

Unsurprisingly, Puck was the last student in the parking lot. He'd spoken quietly with Maribel Lopez, but hadn't gone home with them. He was heading to his truck when he stopped suddenly. There was a strange car parked next to his truck, and he didn't know anyone who was willing to risk a scratch on their black Porsche to park next to his beat up old Dodge. Frowning, he walked over to the passenger's side of his truck and pulled out his leather coat. The snow had started to pick up, and it was getting colder than he would have liked. Puck found himself wishing for a hat. His ears were close to freezing at the moment.

When he wandered over to the driver's side of his truck, he noticed that the driver of the Porsche had gotten out and was lighting up a cigarette. "You need to learn how to answer your phone, boy," a man said gruffly, and with a British accent. He offered Puck a cigarette, which the younger man hesitated before taking. The man was tall and thin, almost unhealthily so, but he was wearing an expensive suit and overcoat. He had no hair, and it was too dark for Puck to see what color his eyes were.

"I don't take calls from numbers I don't know," Puck said finally, allowing the man to light up his cigarette for him.

"I got your number from some bint named Jessica Alvarez. She believed that she had something that would catch my interest, and she did. She also suggested that we speak in person. Is there somewhere we can go to talk in private?"

Puck looked around the parking lot. He only saw Will, sitting in his car and talking to someone on his phone. "This isn't private enough for you?" he asked.

"I'd prefer to go somewhere where it isn't snowing," the man said. "I'm from LA, so I'm used to warmer climates," he said.

"This is just going to be a conversation?" Puck asked. Jess had been acting a bit odd the last time he saw her, but he didn't think she would have talked to someone about their arrangement.

"I am a businessman, Mister Puckerman, and I am nothing if not completely professional," the man said before offering Puck his hand. "My name is Archie Miles," he said. The name sounded slightly familiar to Puck, but he couldn't place exactly where he'd heard it before.

"Puck." He shook the man's hand, still not entirely sure what was going on.

Archie nodded. "Why don't we take this back to my hotel room, then? We can have a few cocktails to warm up and then we can get down to business," he suggested, motioning to his Porsche.

At that, Puck chuckled quietly. "There's a few inches of snow on the ground, and unless you want to end up dead from skidding on ice, you're going to want to get in my truck," he said. "I'll drop you off here tomorrow morning and you can pick up the car then," he suggested as they both tossed their cigarettes into a pile of snow. The hiss of the extinguished lights made Puck smirk a bit, but he said nothing, waiting for the older man's response.

Archie nodded again, and moved to get into the passenger's seat of the truck while Puck made himself comfortable in the driver's seat.

They drove back to the Marriott in downtown Lima without any music. The silence wasn't tense, but it wasn't all that comfortable either.

Once they got there, Puck followed Archie into the elevator, growing increasingly more curious as to what this meeting was about. Neither of them said anything, though, until they were behind closed doors in Archie's eighth-floor suite.

Archie took off his overcoat, poured himself a scotch and made himself comfortable in the armchair closest to the electric fireplace, which was the first thing he'd turned on upon coming into the room. When he was settled, he looked over at Puck, who was standing just inside the door, hands shoved in his pockets and an almost nervous look on his face. He hadn't moved since Archie had come in and locked the door. "Come in, Puck. Make yourself comfortable," Archie said, motioning at the unoccupied armchair just a few feet in front of his.

Puck nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment, and walked over to the armchair. He took his coat off and sat down, doing his best to adopt an unaffected attitude.

Archie seemed to buy it. "So," he said, amicably enough. "Jessica told me quite a bit about you when we spoke earlier today."

"Oh?"

"Quite a bit, yes, and I was impressed enough with her sales pitch to stick around this... quaint little town," he said, his tone becoming more than slightly derogatory when mentioning Lima.

Puck stayed silent, not sure how to respond to that.

Archie seemed amused by Puck's silence. He set his glass of scotch onto the table between them and interlaced his fingers together. "Strip," he said calmly.

"The fuck?"

"You heard me," Archie said. Without warning, he pulled out a gun and set it on the arm of his chair. "Strip."

Puck scowled but stood up. He hesitated for a moment, but when the gun was aimed at his chest, he began to strip.

Once he was down to his briefs, Archie lowered his gun and held up his hand. "That's enough for now," he said. "Turn. Slowly."

Still scowling, Puck did as told. There were a few old scars, but he was mostly healed from the cuts and bruises that he'd gotten during his latest sessions.

"You heal quickly," Archie said. "Your last interaction with Jessica was about a week ago, yes?"

Puck nodded.

"Sit down."

He still stayed silent, but did as he was told.

Archie tucked his gun into the pocket of his suit coat and walked over to his backpack. He pulled a laptop out of the backpack and walked back over to the table. "I normally wouldn't waste my time in small towns like these, but Jessica sent me something that convinced me to make an exception in your case," he said as he opened his laptop and clicked on a file. "I don't know if you've seen this or not."

"What are you talking about?" Puck asked, though he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The older man didn't answer. He just opened a video and pressed play, turning the laptop to face Puck. "It is rather impressive," he said quietly.

It was a video, almost professional grade, and for a moment, Puck found himself impressed. The overwhelming feelings of anger and nausea, though, quickly smothered any other feelings. This was a video of his long weekend with Jess, when she'd pulled out all the stops. He'd spent most of that weekend muzzled and bound, and he was barely able to walk when everything was over. The video showed the more hardcore parts of that session, including her whips, a few clamps, a cock ring, and a few electric toys that he'd done his best to forget about.

"Turn it off," he said quietly. When Archie didn't do anything, Puck stood up and slammed the laptop shut. He turned to face Archie, but found the man's gun jammed under his chin before he could do anything. "Get your gun the fuck away from me," he growled. Of course, his demand was made much less threatening while he was wearing only green briefs, and both he and Archie knew it.

"I had hoped to have this conversation under more civil terms, but it is nice to see that you aren't nearly as submissive as you come off in the video," Archie said. "You will be popular, I can guarantee you that."

Puck said nothing.

Archie increased the pressure of the gun at Puck's neck, and he pointed with his free hand to the chair. "Sit. We're going to continue this discussion and you may leave only when I've told you what I traveled across the country to say," he said.

Puck did as told, glaring at the man. He was unable to hide the fact that his hands were trembling with rage, and it made it worse that his anger only seemed to amuse Archie further.

"Jessica sent me this video with a note that I could expand my business a great deal with you, and after watching it a few times, I found myself agreeing with her suggestion. I can easily guarantee you a long career as a male sub, and if you're willing to work with both men and women, I will personally assure you that you will be a millionaire within eight months," Archie said, not lowering his gun. "I am well aware that you are angry with the woman at the moment, and I will give you some leeway because of that, but I do want you to seriously consider my offer."

In spite of his anger, Puck found himself thinking of the possibilities that would open up for Sara if he had access to that much money. It took a while before he was able to speak without sounding too angry at the man. Finally, when he'd gained some semblance of self control, he spoke. "What offer?"

"Six figures in six months," Archie said. "If you agree to sign a contract with me today, I'll give you fifty thousand as something of a signing bonus."

Puck was silent, not wanting to admit to himself that he was thinking about seriously considering the offer. He leaned back in the chair, scowling again when his cellphone buzzed. "I'm not going to answer you right now," he said coldly.

Archie nodded, lowering the gun now that Puck seemed less likely to attack him. "I hadn't expected you would," he said. "I just want you to start considering the offer. I'll be in town for a few days, so we can talk about this when you've calmed down a bit more and when it's a more decent hour," he said. "You can get dressed again, if you'd like."

Puck nodded and stood up, pulling his jeans on. He was immediately compartmentalizing everything that had happened that evening, and wondering if he could spend the rest of his weekend on Will's couch without the man asking too many questions. When he was fully dressed, he looked over at Archie, who'd been watching him with no small degree of interest. "The hotel can call you a cab to get back to your car in the morning," he said, zipping up his coat up and making sure that his boots were tied. "And give me the CD that she sent you."

The older man pulled a cased CD out from the inside pocket of his suit coat and held it out to Puck. "We'll speak again tomorrow, then," he said. It wasn't a question, and both of them knew it.

Puck didn't say anything. He just snatched the CD from the older man's hand and walked out of the hotel room, tucking the think into the pocket of his suit coat. He'd spend the night at Will's house and wake up early enough to have breakfast with Sara at the Lopez house. Of course, he wasn't going to be able to sleep until he handled one major problem.

As soon as he was in his truck, he headed over to a house that he'd grown to hate quite a bit.

He parked in the driveway for the first time, taking some small degree of comfort in seeing that Wesley wasn't home at the moment. Without caring about the time, he stalked to the front door and pounded on it.

It didn't take long for a light to turn on and a door to open. Jessica seemed less than pleased to see him, but she still stepped outside and closed the door. She opened her mouth, no doubt to scold him for showing up uninvited, but she never got the chance.

Puck shoved her back against the door, his hand wrapping around her throat almost involuntarily. He was able to stop himself from strangling her, but it was a close call. "We had an arrangement. You text me, and I come and let you use me however you want. We weren't supposed to tell anyone about our deal," he said, his voice little more than a growl. "You broke the rules when you fucking recorded that bullshit and sent it out to some asshole porn director."

"You needed the money," she said hoarsely, unable to speak properly with the pressure of his hand around her throat. "And he has an offer of a hundred grand for whoever finds him the best fresh face."

"You were way the fuck out of line," Puck snapped, tightening his hold slightly. When he heard her breath hitch, he loosened it enough for her to be able to speak audibly.

"You still need the money."

"Not the fuck from you," he snapped. "Consider your account closed. We're done, and if you try to buy me again or if you tell anyone else about what we've done, I'll tell your husband what you've been doing."

Her eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."

At that, Puck smirked cruelly. "I've got a handy little video and a bunch of cuts and scars to back up what I tell him," he snapped. "And you should have fucking thought of the consequences before you decided to pimp me out to a porn producer. I could always drop a copy off with the cops and let it slip that I'm underage and you're making porn with me."

She paled at that statement and nodded.

"We don't know each other," Puck said coldly.

"Of course not. You're just the juvenile delinquent who cleans my pool during the summer," she said, clearly knowing that he was giving her an out that he didn't have to offer. "Anything I own that proves otherwise will be destroyed by the end of the day tomorrow," she said.

"Good," Puck said, calming down a bit. He shoved her against the door again and walked away, feeling slightly better now that he'd severed ties with the woman. It didn't take him more than fifteen minutes to get from Jessica's house to parking on the street in front of Will's house.

Will had left his door unlocked, and Puck was surprised until he noticed that Will was in his kitchen, drinking a cup of hot chocolate. "Did you want a cup, Puck?" he asked, looking as though he'd expected Puck to come to his house. He'd changed into a t-shirt and a pair of lounge pants, but Puck had a vague idea that the older man had been waiting for him to show up. "The kettle is still hot, and I've got a few clean cups."

Puck shook his head, not saying anything. He pulled off his coat and tossed it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, momentarily ignoring the fact that Will would be able to find the CD if he decided to snoop. He pulled off his shoes and looked over at his teacher as he dropped his phone on the table. "I'm just here to crash on your couch," he said. "I'll be out of your hair in a few hours."

Will shrugged. "Take your time," he said. "And if you'd like to stay here to take shelter from the blizzard, both you and your sister are welcome here."

"Maybe," Puck said quietly. His exhaustion was finally catching up with him, and there was nothing he wanted to do more at the moment than get a few hours of sleep. He looked up at Will and offered the man a small smile.

"The blanket on the back of the couch was washed just a few days ago. I can help you pull out the bed it you want."

"I'll be fine on the couch, thanks," Puck said, leaving the kitchen and dropping onto the couch. He was asleep before he had the chance to pull the blanket over himself.

Will was silent for a long moment as he finished drinking his hot cocoa. He frowned slightly when Puck's phone buzzed, signaling an incoming text message. Curiosity beat out his want to respect the privacy of his student, and he looked at what the message said.

_Everything incriminating is gone, and I'm deleting your number as of now. We're done. - Jess_

Will found a small smile on his face when the meaning behind the message sank in. He'd try to talk about this with Puck later, but he knew that he would have to tread incredibly carefully if he was going to get the truth out of the ornery teen. He set his empty cup in the sink and made his way to his bedroom, turning out the lights as he went.

As he passed the living room couch, he realized that Puck was already fast asleep, and Will smiled again. He draped the thick blue quilt over Puck and continued on to his bedroom. He was tired, and staying up to wait for Puck hadn't helped his energy much, but he'd felt it necessary. And as he got into his bed, he found himself hoping that Puck would take shelter here during the coming blizzard


	7. Winter Winds

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

It's been longer than I'd hoped with this chapter, so I will apologize for that. After working on the previous chapter, I went back to my outline and realized, as usual, the characters are changing the plot as I write. It took me a little while to figure out how to stick with a more basic sequence of events without going back and rewriting the story, and I think I've got a good idea of how to do it now. Now that the reconfiguration has happened, there should be more frequent updates.

There's also more mentioning of the BDSM lifestyle in this chapter. There's nothing overly graphic, though, and I'm pretty sure this will be the last of that aspect in the story (unless the plot changes again, which I'm hoping won't happen now that I've made a shiny new plan).

Anyway, on with the story! Enjoy - and feedback is always greatly appreciated!

Chapter 7: Winter Winds

The next morning, Will woke up around eight, just after his front door opened and shut quietly. He looked at the alarm clock next to his bed and scowled when he realized the time. Admittedly, his concern for Puck was enough to overpower his annoyance at not being able to sleep in for another few hours, but he still allowed himself to wallow in his irritation for a few minutes before rolling out of bed. He stretched languidly and yawned. With any luck, he'd grab a nap later that day and that would help him feel better. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and wandered out of his bedroom, scratching absently at the stubble on his cheeks.

"I should shave this morning," Will muttered hoarsely as he wandered out to the kitchen. As he passed through the living room, he looked around. Just as before, Puck had left no signs that he was ever there. The blanket had been folded on the end of his couch, and the two pillows had been piled on top of it.

Will frowned and headed into the kitchen. He wasn't too sure if the younger man would come back and weather the blizzard out here, or if he'd join his little sister at the Lopez house, but he couldn't stop the awkward hope that Puck would return alone and he could get to know the usually sullen teenager better.

When he made it into the kitchen, he noticed that Puck had turned on his coffee maker, and there was enough coffee for three or four cups bubbling away in the machine, ready to be consumed. Will smiled and reminded himself to thank Puck when he saw him again.

After he'd poured himself a cup of coffee and had gulped down half of it, he looked around the kitchen.

Puck had taken his jacket and his cellphone when he'd left, but his backpack was on the chair that Will had unofficially christened Puck's. That, at least, was a good sign.

There was something under the table, though, that caught his attention.

Frowning, Will bent down to pick it up.

It was a CD in a translucent purple jewel case, and for a moment, Will wasn't sure if it belonged to him or to Puck - he kept his homemade CDs in the same purple jewel cases. When he opened it, there was nothing written on either the case or on the CD itself, which only had Will more confused.

He refilled his cup and headed over to his laptop, which had taken residence on the dining room table, surrounded by piles of student work that still needed grading and future lesson plans.

As his computer warmed up, Will made himself comfortable in the chair, savoring his second cup of coffee now that he was awake enough to enjoy the taste. He was doubly impressed with the fact that Puck somehow knew that the hazelnut was his favorite coffee, especially considering Puck preferred his coffee black.

After about a minute, the computer had started up. Will checked his email, making sure there was nothing that needed his immediate attention - and apart from an email from one of his old college friends, there was nothing unexpected. He looked the CD over again before inserting it into his computer.

Right away, a video file popped up, and, after he pressed play, an unfortunately familiar face appeared with a smarmy smile on her face.

"Hello, Mr. Miles. My name is Jessica Alvarez and I live in Lima, Ohio. After hearing about your search for the best fresh face, I went looking, and I believe that I've found the perfect boy for you. He needs some training, but he's always kept me on my feet," Jess said, and then the video faded to black.

Will felt a sinking feeling in his gut - he knew first hand how out of control Jess could get when she was feeling particularly vindictive. Still, he kept watching, both intrigued and afraid at what else the movie file would show him.

The movie came back to focus on a video of Puck. He was blindfolded, gagged, and restrained almost artfully with rope. As soon as that picture came to focus, Will closed his laptop with an angry look on his face. He stood up, his coffee immediately forgotten, and hunted around for his cellphone. When he found it, he dialed a number that he'd tried to forget.

She picked up on the second ring. "Will? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Terry, this is important," Will said, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.

That caught his ex-wife's attention, and there were some quiet shuffling noises on the other side of the line. For a moment, Will thought he could hear a man's voice. "What's so important that you thought it necessary to call me at eight in the morning on a Saturday?" she asked.

"Back with your book club," Will said after a brief hesitation. "You and Jess kept talking about a fresh face competition."

Terry laughed quietly. "I thought you liked being a teacher, Will," she said.

"I don't have the time for your games. What competition?"

"Before Jess moved to Lima, she lived in LA, and she was looking to become one of the big stars," Terry said, sounding tired. "She did some networking with the more well-known producers, but Archie Miles, from Heywood Enterprises, never gave her the time of day."

"Why was he so important to her?" Will asked. He headed back into his bedroom and pulled out a pair of jeans and a thick blue sweater. He looked around for his snow boots while he waited for Terry to respond. No doubt she was starting up the kettle for her usual morning cup of tea.

"Apart from the fact that he's supposedly the best one in the business for actresses who want to one day go mainstream, Miles has an ongoing competition. Any of his fans who can find him the best fresh face for his company will get a cash prize of something like ten grand," she said. "The thing that's made this competition such a big deal is the success rates of the winners and the fact that he's only chosen three or four people in the seven years that he's been hosting the competition," she said. "You're probably a bit old for him, if that's why you're calling, but if you're willing to do some of your more complicated tricks on camera, I'd say you have a decent shot at catching Miles' attention."

Will scowled. "That's not why I'm calling,," he said, finding his snow boots on the mat in front of his shower door.

Terry laughed. "Then you want to know who Jess found, don't you?" she asked. At Will's silence, she only laughed again. "Jess and I are still friendly, you know. We both have our secrets, but there are some things in life that will permanently bond women together."

"Right," Will said dryly, not believing a word of what Terry had just said.

"If you're really interested, she said that Miles actually liked what she saw enough to fly out to Lima. He's apparently staying in the Marriott on the edge of town," she said. "If you don't make a complete ass out of yourself, you might even be able to make a good impression on the man."

Will scowled again. "Because that's what we all live for, isn't it? Making friends with big shots in the porn world?" he asked.

Terry just laughed and hung up on him.

Without wasting much time, Will changed into the clothes he'd picked out and pulled on his boots. He shoved his cellphone and wallet into his pocket on his way out and grabbed his keys.

He didn't waste much time making his way to the Lima Marriott, and he was almost certain that he'd broken a few laws. Fortunately, though, no one else had been on the roads - after a few serious blizzards, the people in Lima knew that, if there were the severe warnings, they wouldn't be going anywhere.

There was an older man, around sixty years old, behind the front desk when WIll walked in, and he seemed to realize that Will was both worried and angry without Will needing to say anything. "How can I help you, sir?"

Thinking quickly, Will did his best to come up with a story that would seem plausible without getting him into too much trouble. "My sister called me this morning from Columbus and said that her niece had disappeared from home, and that she left a note saying he was coming to Lima for the weekend," he said. "She's been going through something of a rebellious streak, and she's been seeing a man who's old enough to be her father."

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir, but that's not a crime," the man said.

Will scowled. "It is when she's only fourteen and he's over fifty," he said. "My sister doesn't want to get the police involved, but if she finds out that her daughter has been manipulated into bed with this man, she's going to make trouble for everyone."

WIth that abstract threat to his job, the man paled. "How can I help, then?"

"If you could just tell me what room a Mister Archibald Miles booked, I'll go up and explain the situation to him," Will said. "There won't be any violence, and if he doesn't have my niece, I will apologize to both him and you for the inconvenience," he said.

The man nodded. "That sounds fair," he said, turning to look at the computer. He punched in a few things on the keyboard before pursing his lips together. "Mister Miles is in room 709," he said. "He's booked over the entire weekend, and he requested room service just about five minutes ago, so he's awake."

Will offered the man a small, tense smile. "Thank you," he said.

"Good luck," the man said.

Will nodded and headed for the elevator.

The ride up to the seventh floor was much longer than he would have liked, but he found the right room soon enough.

Gathering himself as much as he was able, Will took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

He heard someone moving around in the room and took another deep breath as he waited for whoever it was to open the door.

When it did finally open almost five minutes later, Will wasn't too shocked to see the man who'd been speaking with Puck in the parking lot the night before. Not sure how to start the conversation, Will just stared at him for a long moment.

"You know, small towns always seem to have my biggest fans," the man - Archie MIles, Will realized - said. He stepped aside and motioned for Will to come inside. "Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?" he asked.

That question stirred Will back to life as he stepped inside the room. He shut the door behind himself and watched as Archie headed into the suite's kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. His expression turned stony when Archie offered him a cup. "I'm not here on a pleasure visit," he said, his voice coming back to him.

"That's a shame," Archie said with a teasing smirk. "You look like you'd be quite good at it, if you put in the effort," he said. "Are you sure I can't get you anything?" he asked.

Will nodded. "I'm here to talk to you about the boy Jess Alvarez contacted you about."

"That young man?" Archie asked, leaning against the counter. "I was under the impression that he wasn't locked into any sort of contract," he said. "I am willing to negotiate for him, if that's what you came here for.

"He's not and it isn't," Will said coldly. "He's also underage."

Archie's eyes widened noticeably and he frowned, looking over at Will. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, setting his coffee mug onto the counter and straightening a bit.

"You heard me," he said simply.

"How close to-"

"He's sixteen," Will snapped, ignoring the fact that Puck was just a month or so shy of seventeen. "And he was filmed without his knowledge or his consent."

Archie nodded. "Who are you, in relation to the boy?"

Will hesitated for a moment. "I'm one of his teachers," he said.

Archie laughed quietly. "Either the teachers have vastly improved since I was in school, or you believe the boy is more than just a student to you," he said. "Even in my schools, there was never a teacher who would have been willing to confront someone if they'd tried to recruit me into the adult film business."

Not sure how to respond, Will just stayed silent.

"I will, of course, destroy the copy I've saved on my computer, and I will not be repeating my offer to the young man. It is something of a shame, though. He is particularly talented," Archie said, picking up his coffee and moving to turn on his laptop.

An almost comfortable silence settled between them.

When Archie had finished his coffee and was going back for another cup, he spoke again. "I realize that this might be prying, but how does an underage young man like that get to be so experienced?" he asked. "After all, he showed a level of tolerance in the video that I can rarely find, even with my most experienced actors."

Will hesitated again, not sure how much of Puck's story he could share without feeling like he'd violated the younger man's trust. "He's earned a reputation of being incredibly promiscuous, and he tends to embrace that reputation much more than is healthy," he said. "But the video you were sent is one of rape."

"Because he is underage?" Archie asked with a frown. When Will shook his head, the frown deepened into a scowl. "Why?"

"Because the woman who sent you that video did not engage in any of the safe, sane or consensual aspects of bondage that intense. Jess has never allowed him to have a safe word, and she doesn't stop when he's on the verge of breaking down. Even just recording the video crossed the line for Puck, and I'm sure she's well aware of it if I know that," he said. "And there is no mental recovery after she's done with him. He's often pushed out the back door while he's still gagged. I've even had to help him get one particularly tight gag off when he came to my house in the middle of the night."

"Really?" Archie asked. "That is irresponsible of, to say the least. I appreciate you coming to me with this information," he said.

"I didn't do it for your benefit," Will said, the sharp tone returning to his voice.

Archie nodded. "I am well aware of that," he said. "But I am grateful regardless." He was silent for a moment before frowning. "I realize that you are not going to appreciate my next request," he started, sounding almost hesitant. "I would like to see him again," he said.

This time it was Will's turn to be surprised. "Are you out of your damn mind?" he asked.

"Not at all," Archie said, though he didn't sound offended or put off by Will's tone. "But I conducted myself in a way that is completely inappropriate given the young man's age and mistreatment," he said. At Will's glare, he shook his head. "Nothing similar to what you're thinking of," he said quickly. "I treated him as he was presented to me, an untrained sub who, at times, tends to be a bit feisty. It was not my intention to harm him in any manner, and I would simply like to apologize for my behavior."

Will still wasn't happy, and he made no effort to hide that.

"If it puts you more at ease, I would be more than willing for you to be present at this meeting," he said.

"I'll talk to Puck about it," Will said grudgingly. "But I won't make any promises."

"Of course not," Archie said. "I would simply like to make amends before I return to my home in Los Angeles," he added.

Will nodded but didn't say anything. He made his way to the door, but Archie stopped him.

"I really must thank you again for stopping by," he said. "Both for my sake and on behalf of that young man," he said.

Will stayed silent. He shrugged a bit and headed out the door. He passed the maid coming with the man's room service on the way and found himself relaxing as he put more distance between himself and Archie Miles. The man may have said everything right, but Will wouldn't entirely believe that the man was going to leave Puck alone until he'd gone back to LA for good.

When he got back to his house, he found Puck's truck parked in his driveway and smiled to himself, for some reason feeling all his anger melting away at the sight. Inside, Puck and Sara waiting for him on his couch.

"Where'd you go?" Puck asked, though from the hard look in his eyes, he seemed to have a pretty good idea.

"Just out to run an errand before the storm hits," he said, doing his best to keep things amicable enough. The two of them would likely have that conversation soon enough, but there was no need for him to make the rest of their stay uncomfortable. He moved over to sit in the armchair a few feet away from the couch. "I can't guarantee much, but I've got a fully stocked kitchen and there are emergency supplies stashed around here in case we lose power. I've also got wood for the fireplace and marshmallows, if that's an option that interests you."

Puck just shrugged, but Sara's face lit up at the prospect.

"We're both going to be working on homework first," Puck said. "But Sara brought over some of her favorite movies, if that's okay," he added.

"Of course," WIll said, smiling. "Make yourselves comfortable. I've got to work on some grading myself, so just do whatever you want to get settled. I'm going to change real quick, but I should be back out in a few minutes and then I can make us all some breakfast." When Sara nodded, still grinning, Will stood up and headed to his bedroom.

He heard Puck and Sara speaking quietly in Yiddish for a moment, but didn't realize he was being followed until he'd taken his sweatshirt off and someone walked into his bedroom.

"Wait a min-" he stopped abruptly when Puck tossed a CD in a purple jewel case onto his bed and locked the door. He stalked a few feet forward until he'd cornered Will against the wall next to his dresser. "Why the fuck were you watching that?" he asked coldly.

"I honestly didn't know what it was until it was playing on my computer," Will said. He tried to edge away from Puck, but the younger man was having none of it. "I keep most of my own CDs in the same kind of case, and I thought that I'd dropped one of them in the kitchen."

"But you left it in your computer?" Puck snapped. "Were you planning on watching it again?"

Will scowled. "Of course not," he said. "I didn't make it much past Jess introducing herself before I turned it off," he said.

"Right. And your errand?" Puck asked, his voice coming out in a snarl. He stepped closer to Will when Will tried again to escape, and he got close enough that they could feel the heat from the other's bodies without any physical contact.

"I went to the Marriott to tell Miles that he was in possession of child porn," Will said coldly. "I am more than wiling to have this conversation, but only after I've put on a shirt and when you aren't backing me into a corner," he said, pointedly pushing past Puck to go to his closet.

The younger man stayed where he was, not saying anything, but he watched as Will pulled on an old grey t-shirt and kicked off his snow boots. Finally: "You went to see Miles?" he asked in a quiet, uncertain voice.

Will nodded, not entirely comfortable with the way Puck suddenly went quiet. He still felt like he was trapped in a small room with some kind of predator, but he had no way of knowing the best way to react without starting an argument, or some other kind of fight.

"Why?

That hadn't been the question he'd expected, but Will did his best to hide his surprise as he turned around, wondering if he should change back into his sweatpants. "For the same reason that you left your fight club," he said quietly, not sure if that was the right thing to say. "I don't want to see you getting hurt, Noah."

A quick flurry of emotions passed over Puck's face before the younger man settled on frowning slightly. "What'd he say?"

"He wants to speak with you in person before he goes back to LA," he said. "So he can apologize for how he treated you last night."

Puck said nothing, though he started rubbing at his neck. Will noticed a light purple bruise on his neck but didn't say anything, instead just silently wondering what had happened between the two last night. "I'll think about it," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else, before taking a few slow, calculated steps toward Will. "I've got a few days, right?"

Will nodded. He didn't move from his spot, deciding to wait to see what Puck was going to do.

"I really should thank you for what you did," Puck said, his voice taking on a purring quality. He watched Will through lidded eyes and adopted a lazy smirk when he heard the older man's voice hitch slightly. He reached his hand out and trailed it lightly down Will's chest. He took another step closer and leaned forward so that their noses were almost touching, lightly brushing his fingers over Will's crotch. "I've gotten very good at expressing my gratitude," he said breathily.

For a very brief moment, Will considered taking the younger man's offer. It had been quite a while since he'd been with someone else, and there was an annoyingly loud voice in the back of his head telling him that an offer like this wouldn't be given again. His common sense won out, though, and he gently took hold of the hand still ghosting over his crotch. "Noah, I don't need that kind of appreciation from you," he said calmly.

Puck frowned, clearly confused. It was obvious that Will was more than slightly interested, judging by the way his cock had gotten hard so quickly, and with such little contact. He took a step back after a moment and took his hand out of Will's hold. "Sorry," he muttered, flushing slightly as he realized what he'd done.

"Don't worry about it," Will said, hoping he came off as nonchalant and not dismissive. From the small smile that came to Puck's face, it seemed like he'd been successful. "I'm going to finish changing and then I'll come out and fix some breakfast for the three of us."

"I can help with that," Puck offered. "Sara likes omelets and French toast, and I'm not bad with omelets," he said, watching as Will picked up his sweatpants.

"You're welcome to start with those, and I can do the French toast," Will said.

Puck nodded. He headed to the doorway before pausing and turning back to face Will. "I'm really shit at saying it without getting on my knees, Mr. Schue, but thank you. Really," he said quietly, looking down at the floor in front of him. Without giving Will a chance to respond, he left the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind himself.

Will stared at the door for a good thirty seconds, a bit dumbfounded at the younger man's admission, before heading into the bathroom. After relieving the problem that Puck had instigated, Will changed into his sweatpants, washed his hands, and headed out of his bedroom.

As he made his way to the kitchen, he couldn't stop from smiling to himself. He could smell the coffee maker churning away to make another pot, some classic Looney Tunes were playing on the television, and he could hear Sara happily chattering in the kitchen. Maybe this blizzard wouldn't be as bad as he'd first thought.


	8. Let It Snow

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

Alright, things are starting to heat up in this chapter. (Let me warn you now that things are going to start warming up to the R-rating, and this is the starting point.) However, the BDSM stuff is going to get toned way down - I don't think there's a mention of it in the next few chapters, and I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to continue to include it in the story - the plot's just not allowing for it at the moment, and I don't foresee any more major changes happening to the plot any time soon.

Other than that, enjoy the story! (and feedback is always greatly appreciated!)

Chapter 8: Let It Snow

After a marathon of Oliver and Company, Finding Nemo, Beauty and the Beast, and about halfway through the original Fantasia, Puck looked down at his side to see Sara fast asleep. She'd stretched out along the couch and was cuddling her polar bear teddy bear. She'd nestled herself under a pile of blankets, and underneath her nest, she was wearing a pair of purple sweatpants and one of Puck's old Bengals jerseys - which had, in truth, belonged to their father.

Will had gotten through all of his grading and he'd moved on to mapping out lesson plans for the next week or so, and he'd seemed quite amused watching Puck help Sara with her homework. He'd eventually settled on the armchair to join Puck in watching the rest of Fantasia. "You're really good with her," he said as the last act of Fantasia started playing.

Puck shrugged. "'S not like she's got anyone else who gives a damn about her," he said, his tone surprisingly mild.

At that, Will frowned. It was obvious that he had questions, but both he and Puck knew that he wasn't going to ask anything until after he had an idea of how Puck would react. "Her teachers?" he asked hesitantly, knowing better than to bring up either of Puck's parents.

"They've got thirty other kids to worry about, and unless she comes in with bruises or refuses to participate in anything, they aren't going to worry about her," he said.

"How's she doing, then?"

"She doesn't miss any classes, she gets all her homework done, and she doesn't get hurt on the playground. She's current with the doctor and the dentist gave her a clean bill of health in October," Puck said with a shrug. "So she's doing okay, but I know it's rough on her."

Will frowned, his brows furrowing slightly.

Puck was silent for a moment. "She needs somewhere to be able to sleep at night where she doesn't have to worry about me showing up bloody or bruised. Someplace with a bed that's hers, where she can sleep through the night," he said with a sigh. "But we can't go back home, since Ma's there, and always drinking," he added in a quieter voice. "And she kicked me out when I went after her latest boyfriend for trying to fuck with Sara while she was asleep on the couch."

"Oh," Will said, falling silent.

An oddly comfortable silence settled between them before the credits started rolling.

"Did you want some hot cocoa?" Will asked suddenly. "I'm going to put the kettle on for some tea," he said.

Puck shook his head, though he did stand up and stretch a bit. He made sure that Sara was comfortable on the couch, and that she wasn't going to wake up any time soon, before following Will into the kitchen. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, leaning against a counter as he watched Will get his kettle ready.

"What? Making tea?"

"Not that," Puck said, though his lips had quirked upward a bit. "You've been going out of your way to help me out. Why?"

"Is it a bad thing for me to want to help you?" Will asked hesitantly, looking over at Puck before putting his kettle on the stove.

Puck was silent for a long moment, not entirely sure how to respond to that question. "I'm not used to it," he admitted, almost reluctantly. "The only people who really bother with trying to help me are Santana and her parents."

"Not the nurse who's stitched you up?" Will asked with a frown.

"Kelly?" Puck asked with a small, lopsided smirk. "He just likes to use my to satisfy his curiosity, and he doesn't really like to play when I'm bruised," he said quietly. "And Santana only told her parents when she found out that Sara and I spent spring break in the park, sleeping in my truck," he added. "Otherwise they still wouldn't know how bad it really is," he said.

"Puck, I'm not trying to push you into telling me something that you don't want to, but I don't know how bad it really is," he said, moving away from the stove and turning to face Puck fully.

Puck shrugged. "You know more than anyone else," he said, taking a few steps toward Will. "I can promise you now that I've never gone to Santana with a gag on," he said, absently tracing his fingers over Will's face. It only took a few seconds before Will realized that he was imitating the same patterns as the gag, where the leather had cut into Puck's face. Even now, along the younger man's jawline, the scars were still slightly visible, if one looked hard enough.

"Still-"

"Schuester, you know more than I've let anyone else know," he said. "And you're still willing to help me." He paused for a moment before looking into Will's eyes with an inscrutable expression. "Why?"

This time it was Will's turn to smile. He gently cupped Puck's face, not missing the way the younger man slightly leaned into the comforting touch. "Because, Noah," he said quietly, using the younger man's name for the first time that he could remember. "I care about you. I don't want to see you hurt."

Puck frowned, clearly confused. Then, on an impulse, he leaned forward and pressed his lips almost hesitantly against Will's, in a firm but chaste kiss.

It was rather endearing, given Puck's experience, and Will found himself moaning quietly into the kiss. A suspicious voice in the back of his head spoke up and Will pulled back, resting a hand on Puck's chest to keep him in place.

"What's wrong?" Puck asked, not bothering to hide his confusion. "I thought, no, I know you liked it," he said.

"No, I promise, that's not the problem at all, Puck," Will said, once again blushing slightly. "But I need to tell you something before anything else happens."

Puck frowned, looking confused, and just waited for Will to continue speaking.

It took a moment for Will to gather his thoughts before he started speaking. It took another few minutes before "Puck, I need you to know that I'm not expecting any sort of, um, payment, or whatever you think might be necessary," Will said, flushing red as he edged away a bit and looked toward the ground. He expected to hear his student leaving the room, but instead he was met with the sound of Puck's quiet laughter.

"Schuester, did you like the kiss?" Puck asked bluntly. He didn't try to move toward Will again, allowing the older man some personal space as he waited for his question to be answered

A moment of hesitation, another blush, and a nod. He couldn't quite meet the younger man's eyes, and Will didn't bother denying the irritation and shame he felt at his weakness.

"Do you want it to happen again?" Puck asked.

His voice had taken on an almost breathy quality now, and Will's blush only got brighter. How was his student this able to reduce him from a divorced, not-quite-middle-age man to an awkward teenager in just a few minutes? "Yes," Will whispered, his voice barely audible. He dared a glance up at Puck, relaxing slightly when he saw genuine amusement shining in the young man's eyes.

"Then stop fucking overanalyzing it and just fucking enjoy it," Puck said with a smirk as he moved in for another.

This time Will didn't resist. Rather, he grabbed the front belt loops of Puck's jeans and pulled him closer. It wasn't quite the embrace that he wanted to indulge in, but he knew he'd need to do something with his hands before he completely embarrassed himself. As if he hadn't already.

Judging by the happy noise Puck made in the back of his throat and the way he immediately deepened the kiss, backing Will against the counter as he did so, the gesture was one that Puck appreciated. A quiet moan from Will was all that Puck needed to start exploring his body. It didn't take long for him to slip his hands up under Will's sweater, his fingers ghosting over the older man's skin.

Will found himself arching toward the touch, unable to stop himself from making happy little noises as Puck's fingers easily found his sweet spots. It had been quite a while since anyone had touched him and it was a credit to the younger man's experience how easily he was able to make Will squirm.

When air became necessary, Puck pulled back. The two of them didn't say anything, and Puck rested his forehead on Will's, seeming to watch the older man for some kind of reaction as their breathing evened out again. None came, good or bad, and both men seemed to take some small degree of comfort in the silence.

It didn't last long. The kettle started to boiling and Puck heard Sara start to wake up in the living room.

"So, um, did you want some tea?" Will asked, suddenly starting to feel a bit awkward.

"I'm good, thanks," Puck said with an easy smile. "Sara likes cinnamon tea, if you've got it."

Will nodded. "I should, yes," he said quietly. "What movie are we going to watch next?"

"She likes to sing along with Anastasia, so it might be that. Or the Lion King," Puck said. "I need to go check on her," he said, jerking his thumb toward the living room.

Will nodded again, still not entirely sure what to say.

Once again, Puck seemed to be much smarter than Will at the moment. He gently backed the man against the counter again, pulling the man into another, albeit quicker, kiss. "You're going to think this to death if you don't get some answers," he said with a small smile. "So we'll crash here for now, if you'll let us, and when Sara falls back asleep, which she will, you can ask as many questions as you need to settle this thing," he said.

"Noah?" Sara asked loudly, and Will pulled away from the kiss, moving over to silence the kettle.

"I'm coming, girlie," Puck said, his face taking on the most gentle expression that Will had seen. "And this time I'm going to get Ambrose before you can hide him from me."

Her sleep-thick laughter was his only response.

Will watched his student disappear, not saying anything for a long moment as he poured the two cups of tea. He frowned at the cups as the tea steeped, his fingers going to his lips almost of their own accord.

This new development would no doubt end badly for the two of them, Will knew. His luck was just that bad, and he had an odd feeling that it was going to bring Puck down as well. Still, checked on his cup of ginger tea and Sara's cup of cinnamon tea, he found himself smiling rather sappily. This whole thing might end up sending the two of them down in flames, but at least for the moment, he allowed himself to enjoy what had just happened.

After all, no matter how much he tried not to notice it, Puck was a very good-looking young man, and despite how he'd learned, he was an exceptional kisser. His lips were still tingling slightly as proof of that.

He was pulled abruptly out of his thoughts when he heard a delighted shriek and then laughter as the power failed.

Puck was laughing as well, Will could hear.

A few seconds later, Puck came back into the kitchen, though this time he was giving his sister a piggyback ride, and clutched in her hands was the stuffed polar bear that she'd been cuddling with during her nap. "The little beast wants to know if we can make a fire to roast marshmallows now that the power's out," he said.

Will nodded and then paused abruptly from puling the bag of marshmallows off the top of his fridge. "Keep it in the fireplace," he said with a suspicious glare at Puck.

The younger man laughed. "Sure thing, Schue," he said, leaning down so that Will could hand Sara the bag of marshmallows. "Do you have the sticks?"

Will nodded. "I'll bring them out with the tea. Miss Sara, would you like any sugar in your tea?"

She looked down at Puck, who had snatched the marshmallows away from her at the question.

"One or the other right now, squirt," he said, sticking his tongue at her when she did the same to him.

Sara frowned. "Can I have sugar in hot cocoa later?"

Will nodded, unable to stop the smile off of his face. "Of course," he said. "Puck, go ahead and start a _small_ fire. I'll be out in a minute with the tea and then we can figure out what to do next."

Puck chuckled quietly, winking at Will before heading back out into the living room.


	9. Breakaway

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

Merry Christmas to everyone (or whichever appropriate holiday greeting applies to you) and happy New Year and all.

As a side note, I think we're almost a third of the way through this story, so there's that for you guys. That's pretty much it, so, as always, enjoy! - and feedback is always appreciated!

**Chapter 9: Breakaway**

After a cup of hot chocolate, and roasting marshmallows throughout both Snow White and Bambi on Will's laptop, Sara fell asleep again, though she'd curled up on the other side of the couch, using Ambrose as a pillow.

"She'll be out for a few hours this time," Puck said as he stood up and stretched, making sure Sara was completely covered with the blanket.

Will nodded but didn't say anything as he and Puck cleaned up from the marshmallow roasting. The younger man had fallen asleep about ten minutes after Sara had drifted off, leaving Will alone with his thoughts for close to an hour. Now he just had to start the conversation, though that was proving much more difficult than he'd hoped it would be.

"Dude, you look constipated," Puck said when they were alone in the kitchen.

The silence between them was still comfortable, but Will still said nothing, not sure how to say what he wanted to say without offending Puck or starting an argument. He leaned against the counter as the younger man piled the dishes into the sink, his brows furrowing in thought.

"Seriously? Dude, what's wrong with you?" Puck asked. Without warning, he grinned and backed Will against the counter, setting his hands on the counter to pin him in place. "I can help you relax if you want. I give a damn good blow job," he said, his voice taking on a husky quality as he leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to Will's lips.

"Puck," Will started before falling silent, allowing himself to be kissed. "Noah, I've been thinking about a few things," he said when the younger man leaned back a bit.

Puck sighed heavily. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Will said. "But I do need to talk about something serious," he added.

Puck frowned but stepped back, giving Will some space. He leaned against the kitchen table, watching the older man almost warily.

"My divorce has been final for a while, and the house is a bit big for just me," Will said quietly.

"You're not moving, are you?"

"No, not unless something drastic happens. What I'm trying to tell you is that the house is too big for just me." He frowned. "Let me get this all out before you say anything, okay?"

Puck scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. He glanced into the living room, but heard nothing that would indicate that Sara was waking up any time soon. "Are you sure-"

"The house was big when Terry and I, when we first bought the place, but after our marriage fell apart, it just got bigger," he said. "So there's always been an extra bedroom, but it's been gathering dust since things were finalized. I was wondering if you'd like to move Sara into that bedroom and you both can stay here on a more permanent basis," he said.

Puck was silent for a long moment.

"There aren't any strings attached, and, if you do stay, I want you to take some time for yourself."

"The fuck does that mean?" Puck asked, though his tone was more gentle than irritated.

Will paused, thinking things over as best he could before speaking. "You need to learn that not everything requires some sort of sexual reciprocation," he said. "And as much as I appreciate your affection, we do need to go back to a more professional relationship."

Puck didn't look particularly pleased with the suggestion, but at least he looked like he was thinking over the offer. "How would I pay rent?" he asked.

"Your grades," Will said after a quick moment of thought.

"What?"

Will smiled slightly. It wasn't often that Puck could be taken off guard, and he found the amused yet bewildered look on Puck's face to be entirely too amusing. "Get your grades up to at least a C average and keep them there for as long as you're living here and I'll consider that rent."

After a comfortable, if a bit heavy, moment of silence, Puck shrugged. "It would be good for Sara, at least," he said. "But I'm going to talk to her about it before I agree to anything," he added.

"Of course," Will said. He glanced at the clock. It was close to five in the evening. "I'm going to take a quick shower, and once I'm done, I'll start something for dinner. Is there anything you'd like to eat?"

Puck shrugged. "Don't I still need to call what's his face?" he asked. "Archie?"

"If you want." Will was silent for a moment as Puck pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jacket. "I'd rather you meet him somewhere public so he doesn't pull any other dirty tricks on you," he said. "Or you can meet him here, if you'd like."

"What about Sara?"

"I'll keep an eye on her, unless you've got something else in mind," he said.

"She hasn't taken a bath yet today," Puck said.

"I'll go clean up the guest bathroom," Will said quietly. At the suspicious look Puck sent him, he held up his hands. "My bathroom doesn't have a tub, and the guest room is further from the front door, so there's less a chance anyone will see her if you call anyone in," he said.

Puck nodded. "You're sure you don't mind having him here?"

"It wouldn't surprise me if he somehow already had this address in his files, thanks to my ex-wife," Will said with a faint frown.

"That book club you told me about?" Puck asked.

Will nodded. "Fond memories," he said dryly. "Have him come over around eight, would you?" he asked.

"Right," Puck said, already working on a text message. "And we're going to talk about your suggestion with Sara over dinner, right?"

"If you'd like, yeah," Will said. He rubbed a hand along his jaw, scowling slightly. He really needed to shave.

As if knowing what he was thinking, Puck stepped forward and took hold of the older man's chin. "You look like better with a beard," he said with an impish grin.

"I can't move my face, Puck."

Puck grinned. "My plan is working, then," he said, once again kissing Will. At the stubborn look on Will's face, he just laughed quietly. "I haven't agreed to anything yet, and if you want, I can give you a reason to take a cold shower, since you're not going to follow through with anything too fun."

"I really would rather you not," Will said, trying to move his face out of Puck's hold, albeit unsuccessfully. "I've already had one cold shower today and I'd rather not have to take a second one," he said.

That had Puck chuckling again and he finally let go of Will's face.

"Thanks," Will said quietly, scratching at his jaw. "I'll be out in a little while," he said. He watched Puck for a moment, looking like he was about to say something. Instead, he just smiled at the younger man before walking out of the kitchen, still rubbing his jaw.

Once he was alone in the kitchen, Puck looked down at his phone, thinking about the text message he was getting ready to send. Scowling, he deleted the message, not sure how he was going to phrase things. He'd never been the smartest kid in class, and he really had no idea how to start this sort of conversation. Fortunately, fate seemed to be on his side. As he was holding his phone, his ringtone started to sound and Archie's phone number showed up on the caller ID. Puck scowled at his phone but answered, knowing the sound would wake Sara up if he let it go on for too long. "Hello?"

"Is this Puck?" Archie asked, sounding almost unsure of himself.

"Yeah," Puck said quietly. He glanced into the living room to make sure that Sara was still asleep before heading further into the kitchen and looking out the window. "Schue said that you wanted to talk to me before you leave Lima," he said.

Archie was silent for a moment. "Would it be asking too much of me to request a meeting in person?" he asked finally. "And in someplace public?"

"Why public?"

"It will stop me from asking the questions that I shouldn't be asking of you," he said.

Puck smiled slightly but didn't say anything.

"There's an all night diner about a block away from my hotel and I've got to start making my way to the airport in a few hours, so I was hoping to meet you within the next hour," Archie said.

"I know the place," he said. "I can be there in half an hour."

"What would you like me to order for you?'

"Black coffee and a cinnamon pastry," Puck said. "And make sure it's fresh." He didn't wait for a response before hanging up and leaving the kitchen.

He walked into Will's bedroom just as the man pulled his shirt off. The older man had his back to Puck and Puck grinned, immediately deciding to take advantage of the situation. He walked up behind the man and wrapped his arms around the man's waist, pulling him into a hug. "We really have to stop meeting like this," he said, his grin becoming almost sharklike.

Will bit back a surprised yelp but, much to Puck's surprise, he seemed almost to relax into the embrace. At least, it didn't seem like he was actively trying to escape Puck's hold. "If it happens a third time, I might start to wonder if you're doing it on purpose," he said.

"This is a truly remarkable development," Puck said, pulling on a fake British accent. "The rare display of mating signals from the sweater-vested hedgehog. This has never before been seen in the wild. Let's watch and see what happens next."

"The sweater-vested hedgehog? Really?" Will asked, turning in the embrace to face Puck.

Puck just grinned wolfishly at him.

"You're in a strange mood," Will said, narrowing his eyes at Puck but not stopping the small smile from coming over his face. "And I'm not sure how to react to it."

"It's all finally sinking in," Puck admitted after a moment. "I'm not whoring or fighting for money and you offered me and Sara a roof." He paused and almost hesitantly tightened his arms around Will, an absent smile coming over his face when the older man didn't pull away. "I haven't been able to think too optimistically about life since before my father left," he said quietly.

Will was silent for a long moment, not sure how to respond to that statement.

"Could you hold off on the shower until I get back? Archie and I are having a conversation at that diner by the hotel," he said.

"Do you want company?"

"I can handle him on my own," Puck said with a grin. "Besides, it's not like he's going to pull a gun on me in the middle of Smitty's," he said.

Will scowled, his eyes going to the faint bruise on Puck's neck. "He pulled a gun on you?"

"It's not the first time it's happened, and I doubt it'll be the last," he said. "You don't mind watching Sara while I'm gone?"

"Only as long as you don't mind promising me that you're not going to start a fight with him."

"Dude, I'm just going to see Archie and telling him to fuck off," Puck said. "It's not like this is going to end with him in the hospital or me in jail or anything." At the less than pleased look on Will's face, Puck just grinned. "Dude, I'll be back in time for your dinner," he said. He backed Will against the wall and kissed him.

Will scowled when Puck let him go and backed up a few steps. "I told you I really didn't need a second cold shower today," he said.

Puck grinned, one hand straying to the top of Will's pants. "I could always fix that for you, you know," he said in a purring voice.

"No," Will said weakly, taking hold of Puck's hand and pulling it away from himself. "No," he said, clearing his throat. "Get rid of the porn producer and then you can come back and I'll make dinner for the three of us," he said.

"The power's still out."

Will shrugged. "I'll figure something out. Just don't take too long."

Puck nodded, kissing Will again before leaving the room. He pulled his jacket on and kissed Sara's forehead, pulling the blanket up to her chin on his way out the door.

The snow had slowed, which was fortunate for Puck as he got into his truck and pulled out of Will's driveway. Less fortunate was the fact that the roads had gotten much more slick in the past few hours. Scowling, Puck just cranked the radio up as he drove off to Smitty's diner.


	10. World

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

I'm pretty sure this is the last we'll be seeing of Archie (at least for a few chapters). There is a somewhat depressing conversation between Puck and Archie, but other than that, this seems to have been one of the lighter chapters I've written in a while.

Sorry about the problems updating this chapter yesterday. Hopefully that problem won't happen again.

Enjoy - and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

**Chapter 10: World**

As soon as Puck walked into the diner, he spotted Archie and headed over to the man.

The man was talking to someone on the phone, but when he saw Puck walking up to him, he stopped the conversation and hung up on whoever he was talking to. "I'm glad you were able to make it," he said hesitantly, standing up and shaking Puck's hand. "The food should be here any minute," he added as the two of them sat down.

"You wanted to talk?" Puck asked, getting right to the topic. "I'm not staying long, so make it quick."

Archie nodded slightly. "First of all, I wanted to apologize for my behavior when we last spoke. I was working with some faulty information and that was entirely my fault," he said. "

Puck shrugged. "Jess has always been a greedy bitch, and she's gone to extremes before."

"If you don't mind my asking, why did you keep going back to her?"

"I needed the money," he said quietly. Puck looked around the diner, relaxing slightly when he only saw two tables on the other side of the restaurant occupied. One older couple speaking quietly with each other and three kids who were clearly drunk and underage. It didn't look like he and Archie would be bothered any time soon.

"I beg your pardon?" Archie asked, looking shocked.

Puck sighed heavily. "Jess paid me for the sex," he said, his voice barely audible. "I'm the only one who takes care of my sister, and Jess would try to use her as blackmail when she wanted to push things too far with me." He hesitated for a moment. "I don't really blame you, I guess," he said.

Archie smiled a bit. "I suppose that's a good thing. Still, my behavior was entirely inappropriate and I'm not entirely sure how to rectify it," he said.

The two of them fell silent as a waitress walked up to their table and set their food and two cups of coffee in front of them before disappearing again.

"You can ask your questions, if you want," Puck said as he started in on his pastry.

"You're sure?"

Puck nodded. "I can't guarantee I'll answer them, but you can ask."

"In the video, you showed an incredible pain tolerance, and you also showed yourself to be quite flexible. How long have you been working like that to develop those kind of skills?" he asked.

"When I started with Jess and the others, I was fifteen. So it's been close to three years, I think." He shrugged. "I've always have a decent pain tolerance, and the flexibility thing just sort of developed out of necessity," he said.

Archie's expression closed off and he pursed his lips shut.

Puck didn't say anything, choosing instead to finish off his pastry and drink most of his coffee.

"Have you considered pressing charges against her?" he asked. "It doesn't sound like your initiation into this lifestyle was entirely consensual," he said.

Puck grinned, though the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "Dude, this isn't L.A. This is Lima. If I so much as consider pressing charges against any of them, I put my sister back in my mother's hands, and she's almost killed Sara before."

"Abuse?"

"Neglect," Puck said hesitantly. "You'll keep everything that's said in this conversation to yourself."

Archie nodded. "Of course."

Puck was silent for a long moment before speaking again, albeit reluctantly. "My mom likes to take pills and drink. She used to hit me when I still lived with her, and when she was drunk, she got worse. She kicked me out once when I broke a bottle of her good scotch and flushed half a bottle of Oxy down the toilet. I would've left town after that if I wasn't so worried about Sara," he said.

Archie was silent.

"About two months after she kicked me out, I snuck back in to check on Sara because she hadn't been to school for about a week. The house was a fucking mess, and there was broken glass and trash everywhere. There was a bunch of puke in the kitchen and no food in the cabinets or the fridge," he said. "Sara was in her room, crying."

"Why?"

"When she'd asked for some food, my mom had thrown a bunch of half-empty beer bottles at her and screamed at her that she was an ungrateful whore, that she was the reason my dad left," Puck said. "Some of the broken glass on the floor had cut her foot and she'd tried to stop the bleeding with an old sock." At a concerned look from Archie, Puck offered him a weak smile. "There was nothing better in the house. When she saw me, Sara begged me to take her with me. She was like three years old, and I wasn't going to let her get hurt again."

Archie frowned but stayed silent.

"I packed a bag for her, wrapped her in my jacket and snuck her out my old window. I took her to a friend's house and her father fixed Sara up and let us sleep in their guest room for the weekend," Puck said. "We left after that, and I'd make sure that she always had a safe place to sleep at night - even if it was the basement of my mother's house, and she hasn't had any more problems in school."

"Have you obtained legal guardianship of your sister?"

Puck shook his head. "I don't want to drag Sara into that kind of drama while she's so young," he said. "But I talked to my mom one night while she was sober and we negotiated for her custody." Puck cracked a smirk. "Similar to the way you and I talked, though I'm good enough that I didn't need a gun to get what I wanted."

Archie smiled slightly but didn't say anything.

"After that was settled with my mom, I left and neither Sara or me have been back to that house since," Puck said.

"That's good," Archie said quietly.

"What are you going to do with the Porsche that you were in at school?" Puck asked suddenly.

This time Archie smiled. "Would you like it?"

Puck laughed quietly and shook his head. "I like my truck."

Archie nodded. "I picked it up and it's parked outside. I'll return it to the rental agency before I take my flight back to L.A." His phone started buzzing and he frowned. "Speaking of which, my assistant isn't going to leave me alone until I'm on my jet again."

"I've got somewhere to be, anyway," Puck said as he and Archie stood up.

The older man dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table and led Puck out of the diner, offering him a cigarette.

Puck hesitated only briefly before taking it. "Look, I get that you made a mistake, and I guess it's been nice enough talking to you like this, but to be honest, I don't think I ever want to have another conversation with you again," he said.

Archie nodded. "I understand completely, and I'd expected as much," he said, lighting up their cigarettes before reaching into his overcoat and pulling out a large, thick manila envelope. "This was meant to accompany my apology, but the diner seemed an inappropriate place to give it to you," he said, handing it to Puck.

"What is it?" he asked, hesitating a moment before taking the thing.

"Yours. Entirely."

Puck frowned, not trusting that answer. He opened the envelope, half expecting to see some kind of drug in there. His jaw dropped, though, when he saw a large pile of money. "Holy shit," he breathed out, looking up at Archie. "Are you sure?"

Archie nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. "It's the best that I can do on such short notice," he said. "I had hoped this would serve as both apology and a request that you not take our conversation to any authorities," he said.

"You're bribing me?" Puck asked, still in disbelief.

"Only if it's working," Archie said with a small smile. "If that isn't enough for you, you can call me at any time. I owe you at least a few favors, and if there's anything I can do to help you, or your sister, please let me know," he said, pulling a business card out of his pocket.

Puck was silent for just another moment, though he took the card and nodded his thanks to the older man. "I never thought about talking to the cops about anything. That's not going to change, either," he said quietly, putting the business card in the front left pocket of his jeans.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they both finished their cigarettes.

Archie's phone started buzzing again as he finished his cigarette. "I suppose that's my signal to leave," he said, pulling his coat a bit tighter around himself and silencing his cellphone. "At the risk of offending you, if you ever change your mind about trying a career in the adult film industry, it would be my pleasure to introduce you to some of my colleagues."

"Don't count on it," Puck said, though there was no anger in his voice.

"I hadn't thought as much," Archie said. "I wish you only the best of luck in the future."

Puck nodded. "You too, I guess," he said.

There was a short, awkward silence between them before Archie nodded a farewell to Puck and headed off to his Porsche.

Puck looked back down at the envelope before tucking it inside his jacket. He glanced back at Archie, who'd gotten into his car and was on the phone again, before smiling slightly and making his way over to his truck.

When he walked back into Will's house, Puck was only slightly surprised to see the older man sitting on the couch, waiting for him.

"How did it go?" Will asked.

"Where's Sara?"

"She asked if she could call Santana and Brittany to see how they were weathering out the storm," he said, gesturing toward the dining room behind him. "I let her borrow my cellphone to make the call."

Puck nodded. "I'm only going to talk about the conversation once she's out of earshot," he said, taking off his jacket, the envelope still in the inner pocket, and tossing it onto the armchair in front of himself. "What's for dinner?"

"I called the Papa Johns after Sara woke up and we ordered a large pepperoni pizza with green peppers on it. It should be here soon. Maybe ten minutes or so," Will said.

"She agreed to having vegetables on her pizza?"

"Cause you'd make me eat more if I didn't," Sara said as she walked back into the room. She handed Will his phone and smiled shyly up at him. "Thank you, Mr. Schuester," she said before picking up Ambrose and walking over to Puck's side. "Where did you go?"

Puck just gave her a weak smile before picking her up. "I know you and Schue ordered pizza, but you need to take a bath before we eat. The guest room is still clean, and the towels were washed on Tuesday," he said.

Sara nodded.

Puck looked over at Will, who stood up. "Go through the dining room and the bedroom's the closed door on the left, near the sliding glass doors to the backyard," he said. "The bathroom is in there, and I cleaned it up before Sara woke up. The hot water should still be working, too."

"What about lights?" Puck asked, glancing around the living room. There were a few candles lit, and the fireplace was still going, but he hadn't seen any flashlights and he didn't really want to leave Sara alone in a bathroom in the dark.

"There's one of the emergency torches on the dresser in the bedroom. It's got fresh batteries, so it should last for at least six hours," Will said.

"Thanks," Puck said before leading Sara back to the guest room, grabbing the duffel bag that held her clothes on his way.

Once the two of them were behind the closed door of the bathroom attached to the guest room, Sara turned to Puck, a surprisingly strong glare on her face. "You left me all alone with Mister Schuester," she said.

Puck was silent for a moment as he set up the torchlight on the bathroom counter. "He didn't mess with you, did he?" he asked, frowning slightly. He hadn't pegged the Spanish teacher to be the sort who would harass his sister, but then, he'd almost been fooled once before.

"No, he's nice to me," Sara said. "He's like you, Noah. He's a good guy."

Puck smiled weakly. "You're going to be alright without me, right?" he asked. "I can stay in the bedroom if you want," he suggested. Sara had never liked being alone in the dark, and he suspected her fear would be stronger now that the two of them were in a strange house.

Surprisingly, the six year old shook her head. "I'm not scared here, Noah," she said, grinning. "Mister Schuester promised me that we'll be safe here, and since he's a good guy, there aren't any monsters in his house."

"You're sure?"

"I'm a big girl." She paused. "Where did you go?"

"I went to talk to a friend of mine," he said.

Sara scowled.

"I promise, ahuvi, it was just a conversation," Puck said, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "And I don't plan on heading out again until the weather improves again," he said.

She was silent for just a moment. "You promise?"

He nodded. "You're stuck with me, squirt," he said, finally chancing a real smile with her. "Take your bath, and the pizza will be here once you're with your bath."

"What about my clothes?"

"I put your bag on the bed just outside. Go pick some clothes out and I'll run the bath for you," Puck said, turning to the faucets after Sara nodded and left the room. Hot water filled the tub quickly, and it didn't take long for Sara to come back into the room, carrying an Iron Man t-shirt and a pair of blue sweatpants.

"I'll wear these," she said.

"And socks?"

"And socks," she added.

Puck nodded. "Once I leave, I'm going to close the bedroom door so you can have privacy, but if you need anything, just yell and I'll come in and help, okay?"

Sara grinned. "Don't eat any pizza without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, kiddo," Puck said as he stood up and left the bathroom.

Will was still sitting on the couch, waiting for Puck. "Is she okay back there?"

"Yeah," Puck said, taking a seat next to Will. "She's a tough kid, but she's never really liked being alone in the dark," he said.

Will nodded.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of them before Puck leaned forward and pulled the envelope out of his jacket pocket. "Archie apologized, but he also told me that he'd introduce me to the good porn producers if I wanted," he said quietly. "Before he left, he gave me an incentive to keep the details of our meeting to myself."

"What sort of incentive?" Will asked, though he looked far from pleased at the mention of the porn producer.

Puck didn't say anything, choosing instead to empty the envelope onto the table.

Will's jaw dropped. "Holy shit," he said.

"Yeah. That sums it up pretty well," Puck said.

"Puck, there's got to be close to eighty grand here," Will said, looking at the pile of cash. "This is one hell of a bribe."

Puck nodded. "I figure if I keep things all worked out the way they are now, I can use this to pay for Sara's college wherever she wants to go."

"And until then?"

The younger man shrugged. "Payments from fight club and my whoring should be enough to keep the two of us comfortable until she's in high school. I'd planned to get her out of Lima before then, though." He paused. "I don't want her to know just how bad things were, and I don't want her getting shit from teachers because I'm a complete asshole."

Will smiled slightly. "I can guarantee you this much, Noah, no one who's a complete asshole would go this much out of their way to take care of anyone else," he said. "Do you have somewhere to put this money so it doesn't get stolen?"

Puck nodded and put the money back into the envelope, tossing it on top of his jacket. "My guitar case," he said, pointing to the object in question, which was leaning against the door to the hall closet. "It's got everything I've ever earned in it."

Not sure how to respond, Will just stayed silent.

"So," Puck said, quickly moving to back Will against the arm of the couch. "I thought about your offer while I was in my truck. I'm not much liking the idea of celibacy, but everything else sounds too good to pass up," he said, leaning closer to Will.

The older man shifted a bit under his student. "You'll live without sex," he said in a small voice, his face flushing bright red as he spoke.

Puck frowned and kissed Will lightly as he moved even closer to Will. "Haven't you heard the rumors, Schuester?" he asked. "I'm a goddamned sex shark. If I don't get some, I die."

Will laughed at that but didn't say anything.

"If I do stay, what are the odds of you breaking that part of our agreement and lending me a helping hand every now and then?" Puck asked, leaning in for another kiss.

"Slim to none."

Puck smirked. "So there is still a chance," he said before a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Dropping the smirk suddenly, he moved off of Will and looked around, scowling when he didn't see anything.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, sitting up.

"I thought I saw something," Puck said, still searching for the source of the movement. He still found nothing.

Will nodded slightly and stood up. "The pizza's here, then. It got here quicker than I thought it would," he said, stretching a bit.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Will pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket. He made the quick exchange with the delivery man and took the pizza into the kitchen, not at all surprised when he heard Puck following him.

"How'd you know?"

"The drapes on the front windows are kind of opaque. Whenever someone walks up to the front door, the light shifts, or there's a shadow," Will said.

Puck nodded slightly, still looking a bit unnerved. "Right."

"It does take some getting used to," he said. "I'd forgotten to warn you about that." Will pulled two cans of Dr. Pepper out of his fridge, offering one to Puck, who took it with a grateful nod. "I don't mean to push, but based on your question in the living room, it sounds like you've almost made up your mind about my offer."

The younger man shrugged and popped open his can of soda. "Overall, it sounds like a good deal, but my decision is going to depend entirely on what Sara has to say," he said.

Will nodded.

"How long is school going to be cancelled?"

"I'd guess no longer than a week," Will said. "Why?"

Puck shrugged, not saying anything.

Will's lips quirked up slightly. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you like, no matter what choice you make as far as my offer," he said.

"It's not that, but thanks," Puck said. "I might end up checking on my mom if there's time."

That admission took Will by surprise. "Why?"

Puck shrugged. "I go by the house a few times a year, just to make sure that she's not dead," he said. "It's never a particularly pleasant experience, but I do it anyway."

WIll nodded, not even pretending to understand. "If you need my help," he offered.

"Thanks," Puck said quietly. "But I'll probably just end up getting drunk after checking on her. Old habits die hard, I guess," he said with a shrug.

Will frowned but didn't say anything.

Puck just shrugged again and headed back into the living room.

Will stared after him for a moment, still not sure how to take Puck's admission. Finally, he did his best to set that statement aside in favor of grabbing a few dishes and following the younger man out to the living room.

A comfortable silence settled between them as Will cleared off the coffee table and set up three dining spaces. Puck helped as much as he could, moving the pillows off the couch and making sure the fire had enough wood.

Sara joined them soon enough, approaching Puck with a towel and a frustrated look on her face.

"Can't dry it?" Puck asked knowingly, picking her up and starting to dry her damp hair. "If you'd get it cut shorter than your waist, it'd be easier to manage."

"But I don't want a mohawk, Noah," she said, pouting.

"We'd be twins," Puck said with a grin.

Sara grinned up at him. "I'd still be cuter," she said.

Puck scowled, though his amusement was still obvious. "Brat," he said, his tone affectionate. "Do you want a ponytail or a braid?"

She thought about it for a moment. "A braid, please," she said, handing him a comb.

Puck nodded and started combing through her hair. "Did you bring a hair tie?"

"Yep," she said, holding up a bright blue scrunchie.

"I'll go get the pizza," Will said after watching the two of them for a moment.

Sara beamed up at him and Puck nodded slightly, most of his focus on braiding Sara's hair.

Will brought the pizza out, grabbing the first slice out of habit.

As the three of them settled in together, a comfortable silence fell over the room, and both men found themselves wondering if, maybe, hopefully, this place would still feel this much like a proper home if Puck and Sara moved in on a permanent basis.


End file.
